


The Life I Once Knew (The Life I Found Again)

by AiLaikHeda_OnMyBeda



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Azgeda Clarke Griffin, Azgeda!Clarke, Blood and Violence, Canon Universe, Clexa, Commander Lexa, Commander!Lexa, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Eventual Smut, F/F, Flashbacks, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Grounder Clarke Griffin, I think it's canon, Klark & Leksa, Memory Dissasociation, Memory Loss, Niylarke (breifly), Past Abuse, Physical Abuse, Post Praimfaya, Praimfaya, Slow Burn, Smut, Time Jump, Violence, Wanheda Clarke Griffin, memory repression, minor torture, wanheda
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-06
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-01-09 18:18:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 46,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12281904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AiLaikHeda_OnMyBeda/pseuds/AiLaikHeda_OnMyBeda
Summary: Klark Kom Trikru and Leksa Kom Trikru are best friends. We're best friends. They did everything together and there was never a time they were apart. Until one day when celebrating Leksa's 6th birthday in her village, the Ice Nation attacked. Dozen's of people were killed and dozens more taken hostage, Klark include.15 years later, Klark is presumed dead, and Leksa has buried her past and heart. She is now Leksa Kom Trikru the ruthless Heda, commander of the 12 clans. She has been ruling for 5 years with only one remaining enemy, the infamous Azgedian Wanheda, the commander of death.Little does Leksa know, Wanheda herself has been sent by Queen Nia to infiltrate and assassinate the Commander of the 12 clans.Leksa can't help but feel a certain familiarity for the "traveller" which was picked up and brought before her by her scouts. Klark was tortured and beaten to the point where she has lost the life she used to live. Her sole mission now is to serve her Queen and kill the commander.Is Leksa safe in the walls of her tower? Will Klark remember her best friend? Can they reunite lost feelings? Or has all hope been lost?





	1. Chapter 1: Prologue

**Sixteen Years Ago**

The afternoons were her favourite time of day, particularly at sunset. Fluorescent orange and pink flames split the sky and danced through the trees, glimmering off the slick undergrowth. A few stars had poked their faces through the colourful spectacle, and sometimes if she was really lucky, she would see the shooting star which orbited the planet over and over again. No one knew what it was, it was as though that whatever it was had found the perfect spot. It never strayed off course down to the planet or would never fly away into space, it just stayed. For as long as Klark could remember, it was there, and she often thought it was her own special star.

The smell surrounding her was intoxicating aswell. Damp pine and moss filled her nostrils and the noise of everything around her was as if she was in an entire different world. Everything about this place heightened her senses to the maximum. But with her best friend, the only world they were ever in was their own. The little blonde girl chased her brunette friend, ducking and weaving through the undergrowth. Sliding under dips in the soil and jumping over fallen trees.

It was unfair though. Leksa insisted on playing tag every single day, and Klark could never catch her speedy friend no matter how fast her little legs would carry her.

"Leksa! So down! You're going too fast" the little blonde girl panted, trailing behind her best friend.

Leksa turned back, a smirk planted on her features. "No, you're just going too slow, Klark". The brunette replied in their native tongue, Trigedasleng.

"Leksa, if you're not careful you're gonna—" before the blonde could even finish, the girl infront of her slipped on a fallen log, scraped her knee and crashed to the floor beneath with an almighty thud.

If Klark wasn't the daughter of the village's healer, she probably would have laughed at her friend. But as always, her better instincts kicked in and she was beside her friend in an instant.

The little brunette looked up with tears welling in her emerald eyes. She locked gazes with the deep cerulean of her best friend. She bit her bottom lip in attempt to hold back the tears from falling, because where she came from, she was taught not to cry. She was taught to be strong, taught to be a warrior. That's what happened if you were born a nightblood. If you get knocked down you get back up because pain was a weakness you couldn't afford.

The blonde bent down beside her friend and placed a small kiss on the brunette's knee before pulling the girl to her feet and dusting her off. While Leksa was always an adventurous and spontaneous little girl, Klark had a nurturing and motherly sense about her, even at such a young age. She knew that no matter what, she would always be there for her best friend, and Leksa in turn would there for her.

The horn for the commencement of the conclave echoed through the air, startling both girls as a flock of birds flew overhead. The last commander, Tomak kom Trikru was defeated in battle against the Ice Nation while defending his land. There has been a raging feud between the two clans since before both Leksa and Klark were born, even before their parents were born. According to legend, there was once a young boy, trained by Ice Nation who was sent into Trikru lands. A family took the boy in after finding him one morning lost in the woods. That night, all eighty four people in that village were murdered, and the boy presumed missing. It wasn't until a year later that the boy was spotted again in Azgedian territory. This was believed to be the spark which ignited the rivalry between the two clans.

As a nightblood in training, Leksa had gotten to know the last commander, and her mentor closely, she admired him for being fearless. She hoped one day she would be fearless too. It hurt a little, the fact her mentor was gone, but that's just how things were, and soon enough there would be a new Commander, a new mentor to be guided by.

However, still in his dying breath, Tomak had saved Leksa. He instituted a new order than nightbloods in training are to be disregarded of any conclave until their thirteenth birthday. If it wasn't for Tomak, Leksa would've been in the arena today and part of the conclave. As much as she desperately wanted to be a part of it, she still knew how lucky she was, because right now she wouldn't have a hope of winning a conclave.

"I'm going to be commander one day!" The brunette piped up as she puffed out her little chest, seemingly feeling much better than before.

Her blonde friend looked to the floor in disappointment. "If you become Heda, then I won't ever see you." she murmured.

The brunette felt heavy hearted just at the thought of never seeing Klark. She immediately pulled her best friend into a deep embrace. "If I become Heda, we will have sleepovers every night. I won't ever leave you, Klark. I love you." The brunette whispered into the blondes ear.

The brunette could feel a smile creep onto the blonde's face. "I love you too, Leksa, forever".

For two girls coming from surprisingly different backgrounds, one being a nightblood, and one not, it was astonishing the bond they had created in their 5 years together. Of course Klark had known Lexa since the womb, and there was always the possibility of Leksa being born a nightblood. It was a recessive gene carried down through her family. But that certainly didn't stop the girls from developing a bond as strong as steel.

Everything they did, they did together. Their mothers even told them stories of when they were younger, they would spend all night screaming apart from each other, but the second they were placed together it was as if time momentarily stopped. The screaming passed instantaneously and within a few minutes, baby Klark and baby Leksa would be snuggled up and asleep in their cot.

Leksa couldn't imagine for one minute a world without Klark, nor could Klark imagine a world without Leksa. They were each other's whole world.

Both girls pulled back smiling dumbly, staring at each other as if the world revolved around the two of them. As if it was only them in the forever to come.

"Swear on it?" Klark grinned, taking the brunettes pinky in her own.

Both girls spoke in unison, "I Klark kom Trikru—

"And I Leksa kom Trikru... swear fealty to love and protect, to honour and serve my best friend for as long as I live".

 

 

**One Year Later**

"Leksa! Leksa! Wake up it's your birthday! Wake up, wake up, wake up!" The blonde screamed as she dove on top of Leksa who was wrapped underneath her bed sheets.

The brunette groaned in response before making a move to pull Klark underneath the covers.

The blonde squealed in surprise. "Come on, Leksa! I have your present!" She insisted.

The brunette snapped open her forest green eyes, meeting the cerulean pools of her best friend "But you are my present, Klark. Everyday I see you is a present" the brunette spoke, without a trace of sarcasm.

Leksa quickly pecked Klark's nose before wrapping her arms around her best friend's waist. The two girls fell asleep within minutes, warm and safe within the cocoon of each other's arms. It wasn't until Leksa's mother Adrijana came in an hour later that both of the girls woke up.

It was a rareity now that Leksa got to sleep in her own bed. The commander which had taken over from Tomak a year ago had been training the young nightbloods harder than ever before. She believed there would be an imminent threat or attack from the Ice Nation and she wanted to make sure that everyone was as well trained as possible. Leksa respected her new commander, but she was withdrawn and cold, nothing like Tomak had been.

Adrijana woke both girls carefully, leading them to the eating table where there were a few items wrapped in animal skin sacks for Leksa's birthday. It was only Klark, her mother, Leksa and her mother. Both of the girls fathers were killed by the Ice Nation when the girls were barely walking. Leksa couldn't remember her father, but she was happy with the family she had in Klark and her mother Abi.

"Mine first!" Klark yelled as she shoved her present into her friends unassuming arms.

Leksa smirked before pulling a necklace out of the sack, the same necklace she was admiring a week ago, the same necklace which cost five gold pieces.

The brunettes jaw slacked and her mouth fell ajar as she turned to face her grinning friend. "Klark! How did you—"

"It was nothing" Klark interrupted. "Well I mean I had catch twenty fish to trade for five gold pieces but—". The blonde didn't even finish before Leksa tackled her off the chair with a forceful hug, repeatedly attacking her best friend's face with kisses.

"No! No! Leks! Stop it!" Klark wheezed underneath the assault.

Adrijana and Abbey laughed on at the two girls. "Okay Casanova" Adrijana spoke as she pulled Leksa off. "You still have a few more presents to open".

Leksa reluctantly let her mother pull her off before turning towards the two other gifts on the table. One was rather long, which looked slightly smaller in height than the brunette, and the other was bulging and circular. She decided to pick the longer gift first, pulling it out of the sack as quickly as possible.

Yet again her mouth fell ajar as she held a shimmering sword infront of her. She could see the glint off the sharp edges and her own reflection in the centre of the blade. The hilt was a dark grey metal and partly laced with black, the hand guard jutted outwards and the tips angled down toward the length of the sword. The upper part of the thick blade was serrated on one side and there was an engraving under the hilt which wrote "gona".

The last gift on the table was laced cuffs for Leksa to wear over her wrists when training. Immediately after unwrapping her last gift, Leksa and Klark were out in the village square play-fighting with the new sword Leksa had gotten. The clear skies from earlier in the morning dissipated quickly and soon the sky was covered in stormy clouds and a chilly breeze whistled through the village. The two girls were still playing when they heard the sound of hooves and yelling men in the distance.

Within minutes, Azgedian forces had breached the village and were slaughtering families, alighting homes and freeing the horses, preventing anyone from escaping. Adrijana and Abi sprinted out after their girls, pulling them by their arms, trying to reach safety. Dozens upon dozens of families had filled the village square in attempts to make it out of their burning homes. Klark lost grip of her mother's hand in the flood of bodies and was knocked to ground. The blonde could hear the faint sounds of Leksa screaming her name in the chaos.

Before she knew it, the girl was pulled to her feet and thrown backwards into the arms of Azgedian warriors. She fought with all her strength and screamed as loud as her little lungs would let her. She screamed for help, she screamed for her mother, but most of all she screamed for Leksa. She screamed for her best friend. The last thing she remembered seeing before it all went black was the image of a distraught Leksa being pulled away by Adrijana and a helpless Abi. The last thing she remembered was being abandoned by her family, abandoned by Leksa.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is Klark & Leksa, not Clarke & Lexa. This is a prologue chapter to set the story going. I had this story in my head for a while now. I dont know when the next chapter will be up, probably not for a while because I'm extremely busy for this next month, but it will give time to see if people like this!
> 
> I do have plans for this fiction though. There is a lot of dark secrets that Klark has so it will be fun to write it for you guys if you like it! Tags will also be added aswell!
> 
> Comments appreciated if I should keep it going - chapters will be reasonable length if I write this.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fifteen years it's been. Fifteen years it's been since the tragic and devestating attack on Leksa's village when she was just a child. Fifteen it's been since the last time she saw her greatest friend, since she saw her favourite cerulean eyes and dirty blonde hair in belonging to the most important person in the entire world.

**Fifteen Years Later**

Fifteen years it's been. Fifteen years it's been since the tragic and devestating attack on Leksa's village when she was just a child. Fifteen years it's been since the last time she saw her greatest friend, since she saw her favourite cerulean eyes and dirty blonde hair belonging to the most important person in the entire world. It was coming upon Leksa's twenty-first birthday now, her fifth year of ruling the coalition as Heda, and it was coming upon the fifteenth anniversary since the most tragic day of her life, the day she lost everything.

She had lost her best friend that day, the only person she ever truly loved outside of what was left of her family. And then, she lost that too. While being dragged away from her screaming, teary eyed friend, watching her as she was beat and thrown on the back of a horse, Leksa had seen a stray arrow pierce her mother's chest in their desperate attempt to flee. She watched the life drain out of the only person she had left in the world. Leksa had lost so much that day that there was simply nothing left to lose anymore. Not since Costia, not since she received her lovers head as token of war and vengeance from the Ice Nation a little over a year ago.

But that is what made Lexa the greatest Commander to have lived, the longest reigning Commander to have lived. Leksa learned from a very young and tragic age that love was weakness. Love was something not to be indulged upon because eventually, love leads to heartbreak. Love will make you weak, and love will make you vulnerable. And that vulnerability is what enemies will strike upon every single time.

She had let herself feel with Costia, a mistake which cost the girl her life, and Leksa another heartbreak. So she vowed from that point onwards that not just for herself, but for the people around her, she would remain cold, distant and ruthless. She became an isolated shell of the person she once was, but it was for the better. Becoming Heda was her birthright as a natblida, and to be Heda was not to love. It was to be alone and to rule with no ties or obligations outside that of duty.

It was a primitive and savage way of thinking, but it was all a game of survival, and whoever could play it best got to survive. Leksa was a prime example for this, she had survived years against all odds and all challenges that not even her predecessors could not survive, simply because every time a decision came down to it, she would use her head instead of her heart.

That's not to say the Commander was void of feelings entirely or wasn't compassionate, because she was. She cared for her people and her land, she valued their life as much as her own, she was just ruthless about it. But she had to be, that was her duty. A duty which was passed upon her since her birth, a duty in which she had to fight for her life for, a duty which she had to earn. And she did exactly that at sixteen, one of the youngest ever natblida's to have won a conclave.

The laws against natblida's hadn't always been in effect. The attack on Leksa's village when she was a child was only one of many attacks. What seemed to be the common occurrence was the disappearances of natblidas. The Commander at the time had passed a law that from then on, any family across the coalition who had given birth to a natblida had to relinquish their child to the protection of the reigning Commander.

But for Leksa, this law hadn't meant a thing, she had already lost everyone important in her life so her relocation to the Commander only served as help to forget and to leave behind the past which haunted her.

Too many nights in the past were spent where she cried herself to sleep, screaming for her mother or Costia, but most of all Klark. Screaming for her favourite little blonde girl who had been tattooed in her memory like a scar. Still to this day, if Leksa allowed the tiniest portion of her memories and emotions to break through, she would see her.

She would see Klark just as she remembered her. But that was all it ever was, just a memory, a weakness. And eventually the walls would come tumbling down with the loss and grief which would inevitably consume her and leave her drowning for days on end.

It didn't take long after the attack before Klark was deemed dead along with the other villagers who were taken. Despite this, Leksa and Abi had spent ages searching for her and searching for forgiveness for abandoning her. Eventually it was too much, Abi had fled the village shortly after the news, having giving up hope to where she now lived in a secluded house on the outskirts of Tondc.

When Leksa let herself feel, sometimes found herself imagining what Klark would look like now. More beautiful than ever probably, with her piercing cerulean eyes, her blonde locks and her creamy white skin to match that beaming smile which could light up an entire village. She could picture it so clearly and she yearned for it more than anything, _had_ yearned for it. She would also imagine a life where Klark and her mother were alive, one where Commanders and conclaves didn't exist, one where she didn't have any obligation as a natblida and where she could live happily and freely with Klark by her side.

Those memories and promises she had made to Klark about never leaving her, even if she had become Heda had now become her undoing, when she let it. 

But instead, she was stuck with reality. She was stuck with her coalition, her young natblidas, her army, and with a tower. A tower full of disputing ambassadors, each representing one of the thirteen clans while they came together for their summit every passing of the full moon.

"Em pleni!" The Commander of the thirteen clans roared over her squabbling ambassadors.

For months now, the the ruthless Wanheda has been single handedly raiding and attacking villages throughout every clan within the collation, and just recently within the outskirts of Trikru lands, just out of the jurisdictional grasp of the commander's army, and bordering Azgeda territories from all directions. Bodies upon bodies have been stacked in trail of everywhere Wanheda has been, and each village has been burnt to ground rendering the people defenceless.

No one has ever seen Wanheda in flesh before. Some claim Wanheda is a descendent of Becca Pramheda, who was sent to rid the lands of the remaining nightbloods to eventually bring around the extinction of Commanders and the crumble of the collation. Others believe Wanheda was a calling, a Commander of Death who was to be summoned and deliver the orders in which the summoner gives.

Others such as some of the ambassadors believe that Wanheda is a myth that has been conjured up in frame to direct the Commander's attention away from the Ice Nation. For years, since Leksa's rise at the conclave five years ago, there has been a relentless feud of power between the Commander and Azgeda's ruler. Queen Nia was cunning, and everything she did was with purpose and Leksa couldn't help the worry gnawing at her that the claims from some ambassadors that Azgeda has been behind the incessant attacks was true.

"Beja, Heda. We have to do something. Dozens of people havd died in my village... children... families. Countless lives have been lost across the lands and you need to be able to protect the coalition." Zylak, an ambassador spoke out trying not to let his voice waver.

Leksa sighed, placing her hands at her temples, massaging softly as if to will away the pent up frustration. If everything was true, then this was exactly what Nia wanted. She wanted the ambassadors to question Leksa's power and her rule. Since the alliance with Skaikru, and their welcoming into the coalition, the clans have been living in a sort of harmomy despite the occurrence of Wanheda, all except for Azgeda.

In the history of Commanders, Leksa had achieved more than every Commander combined. But her leniency and alliance with Skaikru was a sign of weakness, a weakness that Azgeda had exploited for all their worth. While the Commander's authority had been challenged by Queen Nia since her claim, upon welcoming the thirteenth clan, Nia had become even more persistent. Nia was a threat, a threat that needed to be dealt with, but Leksa had to be smart about it.

"Zylak..." she started very carefully. "I understand what you are saying. But you know aswell as I do that these recent attacks are not within Trikru jurisdiction. I cannot reprimand Queen Nia because these attacks are within her lands. It is her jurisdiction."

"What are we going to do about Wanheda then?" another ambassador, Silas, spoke out. "Beja, Heda. It is the only possible explanation. Wanheda is serving for Azgeda."

"Do you have any proof of these accusations, Silas?" Leksa deadpanned, her stoic mask never leaving her features.

"We have all the proof we need, Heda. Wanheda has attacked city in each nation except for Azgeda. They have even attacked out as far as Yuljeda and Boudalankru! But have barely made any attack inside Azgeda's national territory" Silas blurted, as he was met with a murderous glare by the Commander due to his outburst.

"Are you suggesting it is we who are responsible for these attacks?" The Azgedian ambassador Thorac spoke up.

"Shof op!" Lexa roared again. "Wanheda will be dealt with in time, but that time is not today." she hissed.

The very name on her tongue caused Leksa to flinch. Wanheda was just as cold and calculating as Queen Nia herself, and she was just as ruthless and merciless as Leksa herself. And if the rumours were true that Wanheda was in fact working with Queen Nia, then Azgeda posed more of a threat than she thought.

Leksa rested her head in hands, rubbing small circles on her temples. "Wanheda is one person, she is not an entire nation. We will catch her and blood will have blood but I will not spill that blood on hunches and intuition."

The ambassadors nodded in their agreement, some more convincing than others. Once the last ambassador had left, the Fleimkepa, and Leka's most trusted informant approached her.

"I do not wish to be lectured, Titus." Leksa spoke as she turned her back and took her seat upon the throne. "You may leave"

"Forgive me, Heda. It seems as though... perhaps your judgement is clouded." Titus cautioned, ever so carefully.

Leksa narrowed her eyes. "What are you saying, Titus?". She spoke firmly, already realising what Titus had wanted to discuss.

"With it being so near to the anniversary of the attack, are you positive your judgement is not clouded by your emotions?" Titus asked.

Leksa knew exactly what Titus was talking about. She hadn't dismissed the claims against Azgeda, which was what she was expect to do, to be unbiased. But, Titus believed that her hatred for Azgeda's past had influenced her thoughts and decisions as Heda for their present.

Leksa's blood boiled at the thought that her own confidante had merely suggested her as not fit to rule. "Are you suggesting I am not fit to be your Heda?" Lexa spat, the venom from her tongue swallowing the oxygen in the room.

Titus physically flinched in fear before the Commander ."Of-of course not, Heda." He started to murmur, backtracking in his previous suggestions.

Before Leksa could reign down a hell on earth fury on her Fleimkepa, the doors to their room had been flung open by a gasping Quint, Leksa's first in armoury and combat.

"Heda, forgive my intrusion" Quint puffed as he keeled over, likely catching his breath.

Leksa nodded her understanding. "Of course, what is it?" She asked, worry evident in her tone.

"Our scouts have picked up a distress signal about 20 miles East of Polis" Quint spoke with an undenied urgency

Leksa furrowed her brows. It had been months since a distress signal had been sighted. Such signals were only reserved when warriors needed to relay immediate information, in such instances as life or death. "A distress signal?"

"There should be no warriors out that far, Heda. It may be a trap" Titus piped in, to which Leksa dismissed him with a wave of her hand.

"Silence, Titus". Leksa glared. "Are you sure it is one of our distress signals?" She poke toward Quint through her hardened gaze.

Quint nodded an affirmation. "I'm positive, Heda."

"Thankyou, Quint. Send riders" Leksa ordered. "Bring whoever it is back to my quarters".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for taking so long for those that have been waiting. Truthfully, I should have held back on posting until I was able to commit but I had to get this out there, so I apologise for the long delay in an update!
> 
> But that time was spent doing legitimate planning of the plot and research so that when I get to Clarke's past in this fiction, I'm not talking gobbledy goop. I want the sci-fi trauma behind this to be realistic if that makes sense. So in saying that there will be some triggers, warnings will be posted, tags updated aswell. 
> 
> I'm also working out the lengths of the chapters aswell, depending on how much I want to cover because there is a lot at first. Chapter lengths will vary! 
> 
> Also, I have thought about including my take on Praimfaya. So do let me know if you want Praimfaya in this fiction, otherwise I'll continue it without Praimfaya. Bear in mind, if Praimfaya is included then this would lengthen the Au, possibly make it a two part series.
> 
> Please let me know what you think of the update, its for your benefit as much mine! I love a good criticism too! Enjoy x  
> ~ D


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *WARNING*   
> Mentions of torture/abuse - may be triggering so skip over the first part if this applies. The beginning of this chapter is very dark, but it shapes how Klark ended up the way she did.
> 
> She had absolutely zero contact with the world around her, not even with the other prisoners. It had been so long since she felt the warmth of someone’s hand on her skin, so long since she’d had any kind of physical contact with another human being, she had even forgotten what a hug felt like, and she had forgotten what it felt like to be loved.
> 
> A/N: Sorry for being M.I.A on this fiction, but it has my full attention now. Enjoy this longer chapter! :)

**Fifteen Years Ago**

It was almost like any other day in their village, almost. This particular day was special, because it was the day that her best friend turned six. Her greatest friend in the entire world whom she loved with every fibre of her being was turning six, so it was a pretty great day from Klark’s point of view.

The morning was her favourite part. How she came sprinting into Leksa’s room before the sun had even risen above the trees, and how Leksa stirred sheepishly in her bed at the headache of a noise that was Klark’s much too sprightly voice for so early in the morning. The way Leksa kissed the tip of Klark’s nose in the most fulfilling way that only Leksa could do, and the way she fell asleep wrapped up in her best friend’s arms.

By lunchtime, both girls were playing in the village square, and Klark swore to herself, even at the young age she was, that Leksa would always be her home no matter what. Leksa would always be her person, and no matter how far apart the two of them might end up one day, or no matter how far they might stray from each other, she will always find her way back home, back to Leksa. Because Leksa was worth it and Leksa was family.

But how fast can things change? Within an instant, the life that Klark once knew, the life that she loved with the people she loved, the life with her family, her home, and most important, her Leksa was destroyed. Or more accurately, it was stolen from her.

And how fast can thoughts change? It was Leksa who promised her she’d never leave. It was Leksa who promised her that no matter what, they would always be together, and it was Leksa who was leaving Klark behind in the time she needed her most. It was her family who was the last thing she saw, the last people she cried for, the people who abandon her before her life came crashing down into an empty void of darkness.

The first few years in the Ice Nation were tough, the beatings happened daily, she was starved, kept inside a room that could barely even be called a room, it was more like a prison cell. It had been months upon months at one point where she hadn’t even felt the sun, hadn’t even seen the sun. She began to question its existence, then eventually her sanity.

She had absolutely zero contact with the world around her, not even with the other prisoners. It had been so long since she felt the warmth of someone’s hand on her skin, so long since she’d had any kind of physical contact with another human being, she had even forgotten what a hug felt like, and she had forgotten what it felt like to be loved.

The first time she was actually let out of the darkness of her prison was like seeing daylight again. She couldn’t explain it because everything about that moment was incomprehensible. It was the greatest moment in her entire life and for a few minutes, she had actually forgotten about her circumstances, even her home, and about her Leksa.

During the time when her memories of home were still in tact, she would often dream of life where she was never taken. Where her and Leksa got to grow up and old together, where her and Leksa would have little kids, and Leksa a Little natblida maybe, and they would be a family together. She dreamed of a life where everything was okay and war was a thing of the past. But that was a little girl’s fantasy.

There was only one thing which kept her going though, and that was her faith in Leksa. The hope that Leksa was out there somewhere still searching for her. But as the years went by, that hope diminished and eventually became non-existent along with her favourite forest eyes and the beautiful face of her best friend.

With the abuse upon abuse, the memories of her home, her loved ones, the memories of the life which she once knew slowly evaporated into a distant realm. She couldn’t remember what they looked like, what they sounded like, she couldn’t even remember they existed. It was as if she had never lived those years as a child because captivity and abuse was all she knew.

The blonde couldn’t even remember her own name let alone trying to remember anything else in her amnesic state. She simply knew she was alive and existed, that was all that mattered.

The only solid reminder of her torturous childhood was the scars upon scars which adorned her body, her whip lashed back, and the tattooed branding that she was given which signifies that she was the ‘property’ of Azgeda. Her scars told a story of a girl she did not know, a girl she couldn’t remember. But her scars were a reminder that she was and always would belong to the servitude of her Queen.

It was a defence mechanism really, to suppress those memories. Once she had lost her hope, all that was left was survival. She didn’t know why she was chosen though, out of everyone that was kidnaped that day, she was chosen to by Queen Nia to live, but live was an overstatement. It was savage and abusive way of living, it wasn’t really living at all, it was existing, it was surviving.

Klark promised herself she’d do everything and anything to survive, because if there was one thing she could remember, it was “Ge smak daun, gyon op nodotaim”. She couldn’t remember where she had learnt that from but it stuck with her. _Get knocked down, get back up_. But eventually even that became impossible.

She was taught to associate the pain she received through those torturous years to the memories and feelings of her home, of her people. The only way she could survive through it was by suppressing those memories and disassociating herself from those feelings which left her as a shattered and hollow piece of the girl she once was, the girl she could no longer remember, a girl who ceased to exist. A girl who had been erased from history like the erasing of writing upon a black board. One minute it’s there and the next, it only _used_ to be there.

Her own mind turned against her and twisted itself into a disciple of the Queen which she now was. Klark was nothing but a slave, a skilful and calculating slave in the eyes of Nia, that’s probably why Nia let her live, perhaps she saw potential in the feisty young girl who fought back. By doing so, Klark had inadvertently proven her worth to the Queen, whereas everyone else seemed to accept their doomed fate.

As the years went by, her loyalty and respect for the Azgeda Queen only increased because she realised that it was necessary for her survival, aswell as she believed she owed gratitude to Nia for saving her life. In a way, she had technically been sired, and Nia used this to her advantage to train Klark to become her greatest asset.

From an outsiders perspective, one could guess that Nia was creating a super soldier of sorts. Klark was rigorously trained throughout the years, not just physically but mentally. She was trained in hand to hand combat and armed combat. Failure in training resulted in lashes which soon Klark realised that she would have to win every single to time avoid the torture. She associated the failure in combat to pain, and the success in combat as no pain. Pain was a punishment, but no pain was a reward in Klark’s mind. This pushed her to become to most lethal force in possibly the whole coalition.

She was also trained in manipulation, deception and resilience. Soon enough, her non-existent attachment and feelings built her up to be the most obedient, ruthless, cold, merciless and lethal assassin she was known as today. Anyone who fought against her lost, and that loss was their life.

Klark knew what the people called her, _Wanheda_ , the Commander of Death. The very name brought fear into the eyes and hearts of her enemies. The very name caused villages and families to be torn apart and burnt to the ground. The very name was a death sentence to all those who encountered it.

It was given to her by the people of the coalition out of fear. They called her Wanheda because a year ago after Mount Weather was taken by the grounders, Klark had pre-set a missile during an attack which levelled an entire village in enemy territory and left a hole in the earth that could not be seen across.

The blast killed hundreds of people, including her own warriors. Klark just barely escape the blast but the rumours circulated throughout the coalition like praimfaya about the elusive Wanheda. Soon enough she adopted her name like an iron branding and everyone came to know of and fear _Wanheda_.

Since then, Wanheda had invaded the clans and brought death and destruction with her on every turn. Wanheda took no mercy upon those she slaughtered and anyone who had the unfortunate privilege of seeing Wanheda in the flesh, had the unfortunate privilege of being struck by her sword. This just kept the legend alive, it kept her alive, because even with her title, this was still a game of survival.

Some believed that Wanheda was a myth, or a celestial being, others believed that Wanheda was a direct descendant of Becca Pramheda, but Klark never indulged in such trivial things. She never indulged in anything anymore. Her life was a far cry from what it used it to be, because this was all she knew now, it was all she remembered. A seemingly never-ending, bottom less pit of death, darkness and destruction.

The bounty on her life for anyone who could capture and prove their captive to be _Wanheda_ was enormous. It was the largest bounty ever set in history, so Klark took no chances. To her Queen and her warriors, she was known as Wanheda, but to anyone else, she was a nobody, a nameless slave in the Queen’s army of slaves not worth a second glance.

Klark and her alter ego were both invisible, and that’s the way she liked it. It meant that she heard things and saw things she wasn’t meant to. It also meant that she knew things she could use to her advantage when the time was right.

Klark wasn’t a fool. Even with her success, she still knew her life had an expiration date and one step out of line was it. So she remained invisible and kept certain things to herself so that one day she may be able to forge a life of her own volition away from Azgeda and the coalition. She wanted to forge a life across the seas.

The only true spark of light at the end of the tunnel was in the Prince of Azgeda, Roan, and his second, Echo. Prince Roan was older than Klark at the time of her arrival, and he did not agree with his mother’s methods. Echo was roughly the same age as Klark, a bit older and she too supported the beliefs of her mentor. Klark took a quick liking to Roan and Echo as they were the only positive reinforcement in her years of abuse. They trained along side her, taught her skills to survive, taught her how to wield her first sword and how to defend herself.

To Roan, Klark was not a slave. She was a young girl who’s world had been turned upside down and who was in desperate need of at least something positive in her life.

He was almost like a big brother in a way and they were the only real link to any positive relationship that Klark had. But after all that time, it didn’t really matter. Klark knew who her Queen was, and she was merely a pawn in her sadistic game, following her orders as someone who could be bent and broken to her will, like a wild mare.

This was her life, and any fragment of what it used to be like was gone, long gone. Buried in the mind of a girl who no longer existed.

 

 

**Fifteen Years Later**

“You’ve been busy, blondie” Roan stated smugly as he watched Klark venture back into Azgeda’s walls.

Klark suppressed a chuckle. “Someone has to carry out the orders that our Queen gives.” Klark replied in an antagonising tone.

“So tell me, how did that work out for you?” Roan responded.

“They’re learning. It seems as though the Commander and ambassadors are not as clueless as we thought”. Klark huffed.

For the past few months, Wanheda had been under the orders of Nia to carry out the same attacks which happened fifteen years ago. The Queen was looking for nightbloods, for what exactly? No one knew but Klark had her suspicions, so this was something she kept to herself. Many of the warriors in the Azgeda army believed it to be the beginning of an uprising against the Commander, which Klark thought were reasonable ideas for a bunch of inept meatheads.

However, it had been decades since a vote of no confidence was called between the reigning Commander and a clan leader, but with the search for natblida’s being the dominant priority for Azgeda, it caused many rumours to circulate around their army. Some warriors had unfortunately lost their heads due to their speculation because in Nia’s words, “it was not their job to think. It is there job to kill”.

Klark couldn’t exactly rule out the idea of a vote of no confidence, but she knew Nia was cunning, and with her, the most obvious answer was never the right one. There was something else at stake and Klark almost had all the pieces, there was just one more before the puzzle fit together.

But Klark was smart and never questioned any of it aloud. She was pawn that kept quiet and did all and every command her Queen asked without hesitation or second opinions.

“How was your reunion with that erb seller?” Roan quizzed, the smug look never leaving his face.

It had been a while since Klark had seen her, three months to be exact, but she never passed up an opportunity to see the stunning woman who had found her after a brutal raid loss, taken her in and cleaned her wounds, Niylah. She was a couple years older than Klark but her ageing was divine.

Niylah was a beautiful woman who the moment Klark had laid eyes on, her attraction to the tall blonde was evident immediately, and her “visits” per say were not exactly friendly dinner conversation.

Klark let out a hearty chuckle. Roan and Echo were the only two people who actually knew of her little romance with Niylah, and the two of them supported it whole heartedly, glad that Klark had managed to find someone she could connect with on an intimate level, especially after all she had been through. “I missed her... so it was definitely a... passionate evening” Klark chose her words carefully.

Roam smiled genuinely before his features stiffened, his eyes no longer holding the trace of warmth and humour they did just moments ago. “The Queen has summoned you for an update on any progress” Roan informed her.

Klark nodded in response, equally as expressionless as the large man before her. Because that was the way it was. If Nia said “jump”, Klark would say “how high?”, no questions asked. It was getting rather tiresome after all this time, but hopefully it wouldn’t be too much longer.

* * *

 

The conversations with her Queen had always seemed at least the little bit daunting, but when there was never any positive news to tell, it was all the much more daunting. Klark had seen men crumble before their Queen, begging for forgiveness and second chances over their failures. She had seen even the strongest warriors in Nia’s army break down in quivering balls like sobbing infants out of fear of their Queen.

This was something that Klark never did. Obviously bringing bad news to Nia was never a good thing, and anyone would be a fool not to be frightened, but Klark always kept a brave face and a steady stance. Even though she never said it, thanks to her training, Klark could tell by the shimmer of amusement in her Queen’s cold eyes that she admired Klark’s braveness and her defiance, to a certain extent of course.

“I trust your searching went well.” Nia quizzed as she poured herself a beverage.

Klark cleared her throat. “No, my Queen. The collation is learning. They are still clueless about Wanheda, but I’ve searched these lands and the only natblida’s left are those under the protection of the Commander” she informed with her head held high.

“It seems they are.” Nia pondered, her expressions now unreadable. Klark would be lying if she said she didn’t feel the least bit uneasy. “Very well, I will have some of our warriors sent to the capital—“

“—I can do it” Klark interjected as she nervously toyed with the belt around waist.

Klark was very rarely nervous, in fact she didn’t feel much of anything anymore thanks to Nia, but she still felt something. And that something was fear, fear of the Queen because she knew of her status. Nia owned her life, and any mistep from Klark could result in the end of her life.

Again, it was a game of survival and whoever could play it best got to survive. Although, it was also a game of deception. While Nia was cunning in her own right, Klark was not easily deceived. So she continued to play the game with Nia, convincing her of her fealty and loyalty, however she still had agenda’s of her own. Agendas that if known would get her killed, because no one double crossed the Queen and lived to tell the tale.

Nevertheless, all it took was one look from Nia. One glance from her icey glare that either said; “you live” or “you die”. And right now, Klark was getting neither, she was getting inbetween.

“Excuse me?” Nia seethed, projectiles of spit shooting from her mouth like acid as her icey glare burned holes into Klark’s very existence.

Klark took a breath to reassemble her thoughts. “Forgive me, my Queen. But you need an inside asset, someone to get close with the Commander and the people of Trigedakru. I can be that asset” she rephrased.

If Nia was planning what Klark was thinking, then this was a Godsend. This could be the final piece of the puzzle that Klark had been searching for. The piece which could bring her her freedom. It seemed fate was on her side for once in her life.

Nia eyed Klark suspiciously. “And what makes you think I can trust you, _girl?_ ” Nia spat with a rich venom in her tone, which was a fair point considering Klark’s motives. But Klark was prepared for such a question, Nia had just maybe accidentally created a super soldier who might even best her.

“Because I haven’t failed you yet, and... you know why. The coalition is still clueless about Wanheda so I will be safe, and I’m your best warrior. This is the mission you trained me for, my Queen. Allow me to serve you” Klark pleaded, overexaggeratedly but convincingly.

Nia let out a devilish laugh before setting her eyes back onto the blonde. “That you are, girl, but it is a question of your loyalty, not your skills.”

Klark shifted on her feet in slight discomfort. This was a pivotal moment where she had to be convincingly sure of everything she was saying. “I’ll send a rider, every half moon.” Klark stated. “Trust me, when the next day comes that you ride into TonDC yourself, the Commander will be dead and the throne will be yours, my Queen.”

“You are gravely mistaken.” Nia tsked, a malevolent grin adorning her withered cheekbones.

“I don’t understand, my Queen” feigned, because now she was sure. This was it, the last pieces of the puzzle and now she knew exactly what Nia was planning.

“You will, in time. You leave tomorrow at dawn. Do not fail me, or it will be your head I want, _Wanheda_.” Nia spoke, the venom evident in her tone as if the name sounded disgusting in her mouth.

“Of course, my Queen” Klark bowed before leaving Nia’s quaters.

It had been a long time in the making and a long wait indeed. But those years of being invisible paid off, and now everything fit together perfectly, now Klark had one last mission left before her freedom, assassinate the Commander, Leksa Kom Trikru.

However, Nia was not as persuaded as Klark initially thought.

* * *

Klark set off for Polis at dawn the following morning, intending this mission to be her last if everything planned out, not that Nia knew this. But after she had infiltrated and assassinated the Commander, she would disappear off the face of the earth and start her life over again across the seas where no one could find her, not even Nia. It was the least she deserved after her years of torture and servitude.

Nia had stolen years of her life, and now Klark was going to reclaim them without a second thought. It seemed only fitting and it was not as though she was betraying Nia in the process, she was just rebelling.

The journey from Azgeda to the capitol was long and Klark never really enjoyed riding alone on long journeys because it gave her time with her thoughts, and her thoughts were not always uplifting. Now that she was almost twenty one years old and mature, she thought about her parents.

Still, Klark had no memory of any existence of a life from before her captivity, but she knew she came from somewhere and from someone, and she knew that it wasn’t here in Azgeda. She thought about who her parents were, what they were like, if she looked like them at all, if they miss her, if they remember her, even if they were still alive.

She thought about what they had called her and if it meant anything, if they had even named her to begin with. She could’ve been born to a family in the wastelands and discarded as a runt for all she guessed.

She wondered if she had any friends, what they were like, if they were still alive too, and if they had remembered her. If she had any siblings that shared her cerulean eyes and her blonde locks. She wondered all these things and dreamt about all these different scenarios, but she knew that it was useless. This was her life now, and soon enough, if her plan worked, she would have a new life.

But right now, those were not the kind of things she should’ve been thinking of. In order for her plan to work, she had to be ready. She should have been thinking of her back story and what she would tell people, because people will ask, and people will question, and she will have to know what to say. She should’ve been thinking about her mission, and not resorting back to her day dreaming.

Her mission was easy in relativity but realistically, she knew it would be her hardest yet to execute. She was to pose as a refugee, and to infiltrate the city. Then she would get close with the city officials and ultimately the Commander, as the Commander was notoriously known to be heavily involved with her people.

She was different than other Commanders, so Klark was told. She was cunning, smart, ruthless and merciless, much like Nia, and herself. But she was also compassionate and caring, she put her peoples needs before her own, and as Heda, it left her vulnerable and open to attack. This was what Klark would exploit.

She would build up a close and trusted relationship with the Commander, bring down her walls and when she was at her weakest and most openly vulnerable, she would strike. But by then, she would have made her observations and learned the Commander’s defences and strategies.

Next, she would send word back to Nia, who would most likely come crashing down on the people of Polis, and a new Commander from the Ice Nation would rise. Because that’s what Klark had figured out being invisible, Nia’s secret weapon. But during their journey from Azgeda to Polis, Klark would use the time to her advantage to flee the capitol and get as far away from Azgeda and Tondc as she could.

Abducting all the remaining natblida’s in the coalition had not been a random task. Nia owned a natblida of her own who would ultimately rise to the throne after Leksa’s death. The only other natblida’s left would be the children who had been protected by the Commander, and Klark’s job was to slaughter them all after she had killed the Commander.

It seemed simple enough when she put it like that but it definitely wouldn’t be. But Klark knew that after this, she would have to vanish. And there would be no trace of her existence anywhere. Once she crossed Nia, there was no second chances or turning back. She only had one shot and she had to make it, for her life back, for her freedom.

The journey to Polis was long and tiring, considering Klark was unable to ride via horse back in case she blew her cover before it even began. But she eventually crossed the lands into Trigedakru and headed in the direction of Polis.

After a few hours of navigating the thick undergrowth, Klark came across four men about twenty miles east of Polis. It looked as though they were setting up camp for the night. The sun had already descended behind the trees, and the blackness of night of was encroaching rapidly. She had to make this fast before the darkness swallowed the light and her vision whole.

Kill the men, dump their bodies and weapons down the ravine into the stream just by them, light the fires and hide her own weapons until she can safely return for them. But she had to be clever here. Klark knew for a fact that the warriors who served for the Commander had a very distinct distress signal. The signal consisted of one fire at front, two fires behind that and another one behind that.

Luckily for Klark, the first fire had already been lit and the driftwood for the other fires was already collected. And the wind was at an almost perfect updraft to push the smoke up above the trees. But she had to move it right now if the smoke were to be visible to those in the capitol before the darkness made it impossible to see.

The land surrounding the capitol was relatively flat, so from the tower was the perfect birds nest. A perfect 360° vantage point for as far as the eye could see. If she successfully did it, the Commander’s warriors would be coming up on her in less than 3 hours, considering the distress signal called for immediate rescue, the riders would be experienced and fast.

The first two men were by the edge of their perimeter, their fronts facing outward. Klark picked up some small branches and threw them just across from her position, just left of the men. They both flicked their heads up to the movement and slowly distanced themselves away from the camp toward the noise.

Klark crept behind them stealthily, her knife twitching her hand to be buried in someone’s throat. In one swift move she lunged at the man’s hair closest to her and reefed back so she could easily slit his throat. The man fell to the floor in a fit of gurgles while his friend started looking around frantically.

Klark cornered the second man before slipping behind him and plunging her knife into his spine, effectively severing his spine at the t4 and t5 vertebrae, killing him instantly. She lowered the man to the floor before she noted the other two men and their positions.

They were standing side by side together just by the fire. Klark reached for her second knife after noting that one of the men carried a bow and arrows. She would have to be quicker than him. Klark slumped into a lunging stance, as if she was about to kick off from a sprint. She flipped the knifes in her hand, solidifying her grip before in a matter of seconds, she lunged forward and directed the first knife at full power to the chest of the man on the right. She then dropped and rolled on the floor in her motions to deftly dodge a fired arrow before planting herself on the way up in a kneeling position, directing all the momentum she had gathered into the flick of her wrist which sent the second knife into the second man.

She quickly rose with no time to waste as she set the driftwood and kindle in the specific distress signal. She topped the heaps of wood up in green leaves to get as much smoking as possible before she lit the fires with a burning branch from the first. She then disposed of the bodies and their weapons in the ravine, satisfied when she heard the splashes and movement of water sweeping away her victims.

Now it was only a matter of time before riders would arrive. It had been just over two and a half hours Klark guessed, by the darkness which had now filled the sky until two riders had pulled up beside her.

Both men looked baffled at each other, then back to Klark, clearing not recognising the woman before them to be one of the Commander’s warriors. But Klark sold her part undeniably well.

The blonde dropped to floor in feigned distress as messy tear tracks raped her face while she tugged pleadingly on the boot of one of the riders.

“Help mi beja!” Klark screamed.   
“It just— emo just—“ She stuttered, intentionally hyperventilating. “Beja! Yu don kom help mi! They hogeda stedaunon!” She screamed once more.

The warriors looked frightened between themselves, noticing the glistening of bright red blood surround the camp and the wailing woman infront of them.

“Come ona” one of the riders spoke, holding out his hand to pull Klark up to his horses back. “Lets teik her kom ste heda” the warrior called over his shoulder as the steeds took off in the direction of Polis.

* * *

It had been more than a couple of hours since Leksa had sent riders in response to the distress signal which was spotted earlier. Very rarely were such signals used anymore, so the use of one had always sparked the slightest bit of worry in the stoic Commander.

She cared for her people more than she openly admitted, and if some of her warriors had been so far out of post and had been using the signal, it just made her worry even further. Her warriors were strong like herself and they looked after their own, but the couldn’t all the time.

The hours of waiting felt like years as Leksa paced back and fourth, dismissing Titus’s words of reassurance with a wave of her hand. She was almost about to head back to her quarters until she heard a commotion outside the congregation room.

Without warning, the doors burst open to reveal the two riders she had sent, and a blonde haired woman who was quivering in fear. Slowly the woman rose her tear stained face and her puffy, wet, cerulean pools met with the green forest of Leksa’s.

Leksa’s heart dropped to her stomach and her throat enclosed over her windpipe, making it difficult to breathe. She couldn’t believe it... She couldn’t believe her eyes, they must have been betraying her in some kind of sorcery. This had to of been a ghost, either that or it’s a dream, a really sick dream. But it was none of that.

No, this was real, this was tangible and very very real and no matter how long it had been, Leksa would recognise those cerulean eyes anywhere.

“Klark?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Help me please. It’s just, they just. Please. You have to help me. They’re all dead.”  
> (Help mi Beja. It just, emo just. Beja. Yu don kom help mi. They hogeda stedaunon)
> 
> Any feedback or ideas are appreciated. Always looking for suggestions and prompts to improve my writing, aswell as any plots ideas you’d like to see happen, let me know! :) 
> 
> FYI: Praimfaya is a go and possible flashbacks of Leksa and Klark May be included later on!


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last thing she remembered was green. Forrest green coming from the penetrating and fierce stare from the Commander. It felt as if those forest eyes were a window to the young woman’s soul, her deepest secrets and darkest desires. As much as Klark felt herself being stripped underneath the Commander’s gaze, she felt as if the Commander was as equally bare before her. 
> 
> A/N: This chapter is a filler chapter for plots to come so it’s nothing big and major. (Spoiler - there is some cuteness and a speck of humour underneath the sadness)
> 
> Forgive me! Again I’m so sorry for the delay, there’s no excuse. I’ve just been way too busy as this year is closing and I’ve kind of re-written this chapter a few times. I have set mind to do this fiction so don’t think I’m abandoning it! Next chapter will be monsterous for penance on the delayed update. Also, as you will notice, now that we are 100% up with the present time, flashbacks will now be italicised and semi-common.
> 
> P.S. if you notice a paragraph repeat in the first section, it IS intentional. Emphasis my friends :)

**Five Years Ago**

_Ten years had passed since the massacre in Leksa’s village. Ten years of restless, sleepless nights and tiring days of wishing upon a star for the impossible, and still to this day after all that time, Leksa could still hear the quiet voice of her little blonde friend as if she were still here. She could still feel the tickle of her breath against her ear and she could see the radiant and deep blue hues coming from the girl which could light a thousand fires over. But now it mattered more than ever, and now... it hurt more than ever._

_While Leksa’s life had moved on to what she always knew she was destined for, and what she and Klark had always dreamt about, she was still stuck in the exact moment where she made one of the biggest promises of her life._

_A year before the attack, Leksa had promised Klark that if she became Heda, even that would not tear apart the bond the girl’s had made. She had made a promise to Klark which she so desperately wanted to keep, but how could she? It had been ten years since the kidnapping and massacre and the reality was that those who were taken are long gone._

_But Leksa was never one to be a sheep, she was a shepherd, and now, she is the Commander. If she couldn’t make true her promise to Klark, then at least she could honour it to the best of her ability. That’s what Klark would have wanted, at least that’s what Leksa told herself._

_She would bring change to the coalition unlike any of the Commander’s before her. She would be remembered for her fierce yet merciful rule, she would be remembered for her understanding, and she would be remembered for the change she would bring, not by the lives she would take or the battles she would win._

_Leksa Kom Trikru would be the first Commander in a new line of Commanders in a fair and just system, not a savage system. She would rule as how Klark would want her to, as how Klark would be proud of her._

_And now as Commander, she would use her power and influence to continue the things she couldn’t before. She would stop at nothing until her prayers are answered._

_But not only in her position as Heda would she rule in honour of Klark, she would live her day to life as ‘Leksa’ in honour of Klark. Leksa would be compassionate, empathetic, and she would bring to light the values which she knew Klark would live by if she were still here. She would be the embodiment of her fallen friend._

_Everything she had done or would do was in memory of the girl she loved and the girl she lost. Every choice she made was a follow up of ‘what would Klark do?’. This was the only way in her messed up world where she could feel connected to Klark again, because not even through Klark’s estranged mother could Leksa find solace._

_Nine years it had been since Leksa had last seen Abi. The pair, along with the families and loved ones of those taken had spent the better part of a year searching for even the tiniest clue or lead as to where the victims may be. That year was long, one of the longest years of Leksa’s life._

_At every turn they made she had the hope that ‘this might be the right one’, or ‘this may be it’. She prayed and prayed to a God which didn’t hear her, a God which didn’t exist. After the year long searches turning up empty and clueless, the reigning Commander forbid any more searches to take place in fear of more of his peoples lives being taken._

_After this, Abi, torn apart from her grief and loss fled her village to live alone and isolated on the outskirts of TonDC, the furthest point she could manage to find from the past which haunted her day and night._

_Nine years it had been since Leksa had looked into the despair filled void of a soul that was now Abi, just another reminder of her heartbreak and the person she lost._

_The woman was frail now, her body was withered and had diminished away with her age, along with all the hope and laughter which once surrounded her. Her warm smile never surfaced, her eyes were stone cold, like looking through an irreversibly fractured and hollow soul. Her features were void of any expression and her weakened and malnourished limbs showed her near death like appearance._

_Leksa questioned how on earth the woman had even survived like this for all these years. Surely one could not survive for years looking like death reincarnate, but Abi was always stubborn, just not for the things Leksa had wished she’d be for, just not for the right reasons._

_But what else is there to do when there is simply nothing to live for. Sometimes Klark would often say the most obscure and wisdom full things for a girl of her age, but one of those things that Leksa had never forgotten was; “Sometimes life is about more than just surviving”._

_It was ironic though, the things Leksa would randomly remember and how poorly they suited the circumstances. It seemed that Klark’s advice always surfaced when Leksa needed it most. Even if it was a simply memory as a hug or even laugher, it fueled Leksa’s broken heart to keep on beating._

_But, It dawned on her that when there is nothing more to live for, life isn’t about more than just surviving, it is surviving. This was the case for Abi. Leksa doubted if Abi could even remember what Klark had looked like, or worse, if she even tried to remember. But some things are just too hard to hold onto, particularly when you have nothing to believe in. Sometimes it’s better to let go._

_It’s the people you meet and the people you know that makes life worth living. Its the way you influence people with your actions and how they in turn can influence you. It’s the love you share and the love you receive, but with none of that, there’s nothing. There is no point._

_Ten years it had been since the devastation on Leksa’s village. And nine years it had been since Leksa had last seen Abi. Nine years it had been since Leksa had looked into the despair filled void of a soul that was now Abi._

_The woman heard the hooves from ages away, in such an isolated spot, it was easy to hear anything if you concentrated hard enough. But that’s why she liked it so much, the tranquility of it all allowed for a calming presence in her internally raging storm. It allowed for Abi to space out and for her soul and mind take a temporary vacation from her desolate reality._

_She stood by the rusted door of her shack as the sounds drew closer, clearly surprised but not at all unready for the Commander’s visit. It must have been the most emotion she’d showed in years. She had been expecting a visit for sometime now, considering all things, but today of all days... “Heda, this is a... surprising visit. How can I help you?” Abi spoke, her lithe body leaning against the door frame._

_Leksa motioned to the guards to wait outside the door. Once they were out of ear shot, she began, “Beja, Abi. To them I’m Heda, but to you I’m Leksa. How are you?”_

_Abi took a second to marvel at how beautifully Leksa had matured over the years, considering it had been nine years. Leksa had filled out considerably, her jawline even more pronounced than it was before, and her gaze even more penetrating and fierce, along with the title she carried. The green of her eyes only deepened, making her strikingly stunning. Her training left her toned, poised and alert, though nothing unlike the little girl that Abi remembered. She had grown only slightly taller than Abi now, but the intensity of her eyes and the regality of her features left her much more intimidating. “I’m well. I’m glad to see your gona’s have been looking after themselves lately.” Abi croaked, slightly nervous._

_Leksa stiffened slightly, concerned that Abi was intentionally avoiding the undertone she used. “That’s good, I’m glad... but how are you?” Leksa tried again with more emphasis._

_Abi took another moment to herself and nodded in surrender. She released an audible sigh, seemingly accepting the undertone behind what Leksa was asking. “She would have been sixteen today...” she whispered, barely loud enough to hear._

_Leksa’s eyes immediately fell to the floor and her heart followed. Abi must have noticed, considering the quiet sniffle she let out. “I know...” Leksa whispered, her voice cracking with emotion as she fought the tears which threatened to fall down her face._

_Of all things, her warriors could not see Leksa cry. She was a new Commander and any sign of weakness or vulnerability was an instant invitation to her throne. It was a risk she could not afford to take, not even for Klark. She would be no use in helping Klark if she weren’t around anymore._

_Abi let a genuine, reminiscent smile address her features, nevertheless, it still seemed like a chore and if the twitches in her face said anything, it was forced, and apparently the first smile in years. “Gosh she’d be so proud of you Leksa. She always knew you were born to be Heda, she never lost her faith. If only she could see the beautiful young woman you are now ...” the woman encouraged._

_“Thankyou, Abi. It means a lot.” Leksa smiled in return. “But I want you to know... now that I’m Heda, I’m going to start searching again, and I’ll keep searching until I find her”_

_“Leksa...” Abi sighed irritably._

_Leksa interrupted, equally on edge. “She’s alive Abi. She’s out there and I will find her and bring her home. I have the best trackers in all of Trigedakru looking for her.”_

_“And what will they track? Klark is dead, Leksa.” Abi clipped._

_Leksa’s physically flinched as soon as the words left Abi’s mouth. Hearing those words stray from Abi’s mouth felt like a punch to the gut, an to the heart. It felt like losing Klark all over again and again, reliving her heartbreak and pain for the little blonde girl she loved. The pain haunted her like a shadow, always at her side and no matter how much Leksa tried to overcome it, it was always right beside her, following her in every direction._

_And just when she thought she might be coming to terms of dealing with the pain, there would be something to remind her all over again._

_Of course it was useless for her to believe that Abi would help her search for Klark again, not after how the last searches turned up. It didn’t mean that it didn’t baffle Leksa though, how Abi could give up so easily. How the mother who would once walk through the fires of hell for her daughter would abandon all hope and her duty as a mother._

_Time is a very powerful thing, it can bend, if can break and it can change people for the better, the worse, the weaker or the stronger. Leksa just hope that it was a good change for Abi, but realistically it was the latter._

_Leksa shook her head in disbelief. “Abi... you don’t mean that.”_

_“I do Leksa!” Abi exclaimed, not before shuddering at her uncontrolled outburst infront of her superior. If Leksa felt disrespected, she certainly didn’t show it. “Beja. It has been ten years since I watched my little girl get taken from us. If she was alive then we would know, we would have found something, anything. But... she’s gone Leksa and I can’t keep reliving that loss over and over again, it hurts too much.”_

_Leksa let Abi’s words sink in, and how much they resonated with how she was still feeling and grieving for the loss of Klark. How everytime a single thought or memory crossed her mind, it was like she was right back there in that village, reliving every second of the attack like some sick joke._

_Abi continued, “Look, I moved on from it, the best I could—“_

_“Moved on? MOVED ON? You haven’t moved on, Abi!” Leksa interrupted, now beyond upset at the elder woman. “You hide out here at the edge of TonDC, isolated and alone! You haven’t moved on. You ran and hid from your problems, thinking that you could escape the pain but I can see it in your eyes, Abi. You’re a coward and you hide behind the solace that Klark is dead simply because you don’t wish her to be alive. Because it would be too much for you to handle, the idea that Klark has been out there this whole time, probably tortured and It would break you all over again.”_

_Abi stood there like a statue at Leksa’s outburst. The words washing over her like a plague. She was right though. In all of the heartbreak and anger she felt toward Leksa in the moment, she couldn’t deny that what she had said were false._

_Abi had ran. She had ran away from her village, her home. Hoping to escape the pain and the loss which she was drowning in every second of every day. Because for her, how could she possibly live through it. Klark was all she had in the world since her husband, and Klark’s father, Jaik’s passing. And every day she was reminded that she had lost her, everyday was a battle just to make it to the next._

_So she decided that it would be easier to just believe that Klark was dead. In reality she didn’t know, but it was far better than the alternative, and at least it provided her with some kind of truth to believe in, instead of the constant purgatory like state she had lived in._

_“You just cant stand the idea of looking into your daughter’s eyes again and admitting that you gave up on her. You may have given up hope, Abi, but guess what? I haven’t. There will always be a part of me that will search for her. Until I know for sure that she’s gone, or I know she’s alive. I will search for her until my dying breath. And you should too.” Leksa urged before turning to leave, the welcoming atmosphere having passed long ago._

_Abi cleared her throat before the young brunette could leave, summoning her attention. “Heda...” she began, unwilling to use the girl’s name, but even her title sounded like acid to her own ears. “The herbal tea you asked for?” Abi, stretched out her arm to hand Leksa the tea._

* * *

 

**Present Day**

“Klark?”

There it was again, that name, that voice, that calling. Or was a prayer? It was hard to tell, then again it was hard to tell much of anything anymore as Klark’s consciousness started to slip away, as the disorientation and confusion set in, and soon enough the blankness.

The last thing she remembered was green. Forrest green coming from the penetrating and fierce stare from the Commander. It felt as if those forest eyes were a window to the young woman’s soul, her deepest secrets and darkest desires. As much as Klark felt herself being stripped underneath the Commander’s gaze, she felt as if the Commander was as equally bare before her.

As quickly as Klark saw those fierce eyes, she saw them tremble and fill with a fury of emotions. Something about her expression and the way she next held herself seemed almost broken, vulnerable and simultaneously relieved. All manner of the Commander’s stoic and fierce state had slipped away in surrender. That’s if Klark’s training had anything to say about it.

This was clearly not the brooding, stoic, and fierce Commander that Klark had learned all about, no. This was an entirely different person.

Next it was the jawline, the stubborn jawline which tensed to a point of... what was that? Recognition?, that Klark was sure it were going to snap at any moment. Her high sculpted cheekbones rose above her features, as equally fierce as her eyes were moments ago. Then there was the brunette locks, woven in intricate braids which fell over her lean shoulders. The whole thing felt strangely nostalgic to Klark, and a part of her was internally combusting with the strangest feeling of trust and recognition toward the beautiful woman before her, but the moment didn’t last long.

Part of her rigorous training with Azgeda involved her memorising herbs, plants and medicines available from nature, the same things which could prove equally fatal as they could helpful to any warrior in need. Klark was a warrior, and she was in need.

Seconds before being pulled into the Commander’s congregation room, Klark had slipped herself a potent mix of some wild flowers which acted as powerful opioid, and some Jobi nut extracts which acted as a hallucinogenic.

Within a few minutes she was left in a delirious and unconscious state before the Commander. Unresponsive to any stimuli, not even the warm, calloused hands of her childhood best friend which gently cradled her face as if at any moment she may blow away with the slightest breeze.

* * *

Only in her dreams were such wishes granted. Only in her fantasies was she able to conjure a hallucinated reality where Klark was there. It happened more frequently that not lately.

The past few months, the past Commanders had been visiting Leksa in her meditation more than they ever had. Each visit was different from the next, but they all had pressed of one underlying concern, the return of something, of someone.

And following their worrisome warnings, Leksa would see a girl, a little girl with blue eyes and hair that shone like the sun. The girl wasn’t actually Klark, but Leksa could tell she was meant to be. This alone caused Leksa to fear that her memories of Klark were slipping away, but something about the dream was more alarming. Her face was contorted in a purified fear like state, never changing. It was always the same expression.

Then, the little girl would raise her hand out infront of her in a silent gesture, and she would rasp “come” with just as much emotion in her face as the one her face conveyed. Within an instant, the dream would end and Leksa would be brought back to reality. There were a few times that Leksa was sure she saw a twinkle in the girl’s eyes, something akin to a blazing fire, but that was too far fetched to dwell on.

So naturally when the distress signal was spotted outside of Polis, Leksa was concerned. How could she not be, considering the past relentless attacks on her people and the callings from the past Commanders, particularly her ‘not Klark’ dream. But never did Leksa imagine that the person who would be brought through those doors would be the very person she lost so long ago. Never did she imagine that it would be Klark, that as definitely too far fetched.

After years in the silent making, it seemed now that all her fantasies and prayers were answered. Years of searching, sleepless nights, haunting memories and loss, and now, the answer to it all was right infront of her.

“Klark?”

No response surfaced from the muddied and quivering mess of a girl. Any other person would’ve guessed the girl as a homeless savage, but not Leksa. Leksa could never forget the cerulean eyes of the girl she loved, no matter how hard she tried. Some things just aren’t meant to be forgotten.

But those eyes and that girl Leksa knew seemed distant, unfamiliar. The girl looked completely and utterly hollow and withdrawn, like her entire being was replaced by a ghost. The blonde didn’t show a single sign of recognition of Leksa, in fact, she didn’t show a single sign that someone had even spoken.

Her eyes just kept there position, staring right through Leksa like she didn’t even exist. Leksa’s heart broke all over again, if not for the millionth time for the girl before her.

Klark, her Klark was slouched before her, barely able to keep her feet as the two gonas beside her held her up. Her face was tatted with mud, blood, scars, Leksa couldn’t even tell where one ended and another began. The clothes she had were barely held together by the seams, and her body was a quivering mess. It very much looked as though the two men had plucked her out of a grave.

This was not her Klark, this was a shell of her Klark. This was in no way shape or form, emphasis on shape because her face wasn’t the only thing Leksa noticed if she was honest, not the Klark she remembered, and clearly, Klark didn’t look like she remembered either. Floods of scenarios poured through Leksa’s mind of the horrors that Klark had to endure, things that she wouldn’t even wish upon her worst enemies, not even Nia.

Things that Leksa hadn’t even thought about until now. But somehow, those empty, cerulean eyes told a story, a story that Leksa was willing to hear, when Klark was ready. Now, there was nothing but time for them.

Leksa knew that she couldn’t just snap her fingers and everything would magically be okay. It had been fifteen years and slit can happen in fifteen years, but Leksa was prepared to wait, and she was prepared to be there for Klark in any capacity that the girl needed. Whether for friends, moral support, councillor, or even as someone more intimate. It was the least she could do for the girl she loved, the girl she never stopped loving.

The tears welled in Leksa’s eyes and stung her face as they fell, no longer caring about the protocol of crying infront of her subjects, Klark was the only exception. Not even after Costia’s death did Leksa break character infront of her inferiors. She was close, and she had cared deeply for the girl, but Klark was her one.

She slumped and followed their path to kneel before the girl on the floor, both her gonas sharing confused looks. But Leksa didn’t notice, she didn’t care, there was only one person that her focus was on. She took one last look at Klark’s being before gently caressing the girl’s face in relief and a silent ‘thankyou’. She felt the entire weight of her Klark fall into her, lifeless and unconscious.

“Take her to the infirmary. Now. Find the best healers in the city and bring them to her.” Leksa ordered, before seeing Klark being whisked away yet again.

But this time was different. This time she knew Klark wasn’t being forcefully taken, she knew that Klark would be okay now that she was safe and home. And in that instant, Leksa promised that she would devote herself to making sure that no one ever hurt Klark again. She would devote herself to the protection of the love of her life.

* * *

It had been a few days since Klark’s return and Leksa was even more frantic than she was before. Even Titus had never seen any Heda so stressed before and he was practically a fossil. For days he had watched Leksa pace about her quarters, dismissing her current duties and obligations as Heda in hopes that one of the healers will give her the news she had been begging for, Klark’s awake.

“I can’t believe it... I just can’t believe she’s alive.” Leksa rasped, still pacing back and fourth.

Titus nodded in response. “It must be a shock to you, Heda. Have you had a chance to talk to her yet?” He asked.

“No, Titus, I have not.” Leksa clipped, instant recognising his undertones. “She is resting in the infirmary”

Leksa sighed to herself before Titus even began. The man and his concerns, while warranted but not necessary, were as predictable as clockwork. “Heda, with all due respect” Titus cleared his throat, “it’s been three days. She may have seen things or heard things that may be extremely valuable.”

“Exactly, Titus.” Leksa snapped. “She has seen things and heard things, and been through things we probably can’t even begin to imagine. So the least we can do is let her rest. I will see her when she’s ready.”

“When _she’s_ ready, or when _you_ are, Heda?” He cautioned.

Leksa froze in her spot, her jaw clenched and her fists now curled into balls at her side. There was no mistaking _that_ voice. Leksa had listened to it for five years, and she had grown to hate it. It was a particularly common tone after the loss of Costia.

“Elaborate, Titus” Leka seethed, venom dripping through her tone.

The man backed down slightly, obviously intimidated by the ferocity emitting from the Commander. “Forgive me Heda, but how many people know of her return?”

“Few people, Titus. Is that a concern?” Leksa snapped back instantly yet again.

Titus had now moved back a considerable amount of space, registering he had overstepped by a long shot. “Not at all, Heda” He squeaked anxiously. “I just think you should keep her at arms length until we find out what she’s doing here and how she got here.”

“What she’s doing here? If you have something to say Titus then say it.” Leksa narrowed her eyes at the man.

“Forgive me, Heda. It’s just... she has been missing for years and she was found out in the open. I just think you should be careful.” Titus muttered, almost to himself.

Leksa sighed deeply, trying her best to control the hurricane of emotions coursing through her veins right now. “Klark has returned, Titus” she exhaled as she brought her thumb and index fingers to the bridge of her nose.

“But why now?” Titus pressed, “All I am saying is that before you let your emotions get the better of you like they did with Costia, first find out where she has been the past sixteen years and how she was found so easily.”

Her ears rang at the mention of her former lovers name, and her vision tunneled in on Titus’s shrunken figure, like predator right before it pounces and takes its prey with one swipe of its claw.

“My emotions? This is nothing like Costia! I am more than capable of separating my feelings from duty!” Leksa roared, as she released the wrath of the hellish fury within her. “Get. Out.”

Titus was right though. Leksa could say it all she wanted but it didn’t mean it was true. She wasn’t waiting for Klark to be okay, to be ready. She was waiting for herself because still her mind could not comprehend the fact that her best friend, her beautiful blue eyed and blonde haired friend was alive.

The love of her life was alive. She had been alive this entire time and Leksa was just as heartbroken at the fact that she could not save Klark, as much as she was relieved and euphoric that Klark was alive and back with her.

But who was Titus to lecture Leksa on whether her emotions were warranted. In his defence, her emotions took control of her actions after receiving Costia’s head, and it took the lives of hundreds of her people. Her failed retaliation on Azgeda forces was known throughout the coalition.

But the severity of her feelings for Klark compared to Costia are light years away. As much as Leksa hates to admit it, because she will always remember her feelings for Costia, the simple fact is that the Costia was a blip in her life compared to Klark.

The emotions she felt and still feel for Klark are incomprehensible. They transcended time and space itself. At such a young age, Leksa couldn’t comprehend or recognise the depth of her feelings, but she did now. And she was allowed to feel, Titus and his morals be damned.

It was truly an absolute miracle to have her back. Part of Leksa wanted to steal Klark, wrap her up in a blanket, dump her on a couch and just lay with her for eternity. She would happily forget her position as Commander, if it meant that Klark could be hers. She would do anything for Klark to be hers.

As the minutes after Titus left bled into hours, Leksa thought she’d have to wait another day before hearing word on Klark. Sure she was given hourly updates by her best healers and some of the doctors from Skaikru who she’d asked to help out, but none of those updates told her what she really wanted to hear, not until;

“Heda? Pardon my intrusion, but that girl we found, the one you’ve been asking about, she’s awake”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *ATTENTION* okay so I have given this a lot of thought, there has been definitive mention of Costia in this AU but... YES or NO to flashback/s of Leksa/Costia. Let me know. (It will be sweet/fluffy flashbacks but ultimately it will help explain Leksa’s growth into the character she is). I do have jaw dropping plans for it aswell (like legitimate holy fucking shit plans... hopefully!)! ;)
> 
> Thankyou for your patience with me! I’m loving the feedback and the enthusiasm with this AU, it’s what keeps me going with it. I loved creative writing in school and had a few things published in some books such as ‘Timeless Tales’ and Reflection booklets and it’s good to be able to write again and have people enjoy it! It’s very fulfilling!
> 
> Also, If any of you have any ideas or anything at all you want to read then PLEASE let me know! I’ve already taken suggested ideas and put them into later chapters. Particularly with Praimfaya, I have so many ideas swirling around my head that it’s hard to settle upon something. I also like asking you questions on what you want to read so please let me know aswell, you guys are the readers so you get to have a say in what you like.
> 
> Hope you all had fantastic Christmas’s! Keep up the love, feedback and enthusiasm! Until next time :-)


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In that moment, Leksa knew she loved Klark. She had always loved Klark and she always would, and she knew that Klark loved her back, just as much.  
> *  
> In that moment, Leksa knew she loved Klark. Her feelings never really went away, but in that moment, she knew that Klark did not love her back

**Sixteen Years Ago**

_“No, Klark!” Leksa silently screeched as she tried desperately to free herself from the vice grip on her arm._

_All she got in return was the adorable, but devilish grin coming from the blonde infront of her. Klark really was going to be the death of her, probably sooner than later. And now Klark had an idea that just might get them there sooner than they expected._

_Since time could remember, under the coalition law, it was forbidden for anyone other than warriors, healers or leaders to ink themselves with their native clan or tribe’s markings. In particular, it was forbidden for minors under the age of twelve. The penalty for any child caught with inked markings, or any person caught with markings not of their own clan were severe._

_It was also a treasonable offence to ink oneself with the markings of another clan or any ink unrelated to the clan a person is from. Before the clans were in dispute and there was peace among the coalition, the markings were meant to distinguish roles in society and where a person was from. It was an easy way of recognising exactly who people are. The markings in each clan were very similar, yet very specific._

_And each leader or ambassador of a clan would have a very specific marking that no one else had. The Commanders also had a very specific markings on their forehead that only the reigning and past Commanders could bare. Again, it was a treasonable offence to bare a marking which disguises a person from their true position or rank, and the punishment for any person caught with incorrect or misleading markings were again, severe._

_Very rarely were people ever caught nowadays though, considering the penalty for it, no one wanted to die from a thousand cuts. It was a shameful, and agonisingly slow death. However, the laws for clan markings had still stayed in effect when Skaikru joined the coalition. Some adjustments were made though, considering that many Skai person’s already had novelty ink on their body._

_Nevertheless, any Skai person caught baring the markings from a clan not of their own were aswell tried for treason. But what no one ever really considered, was that if you use white ink instead of the traditional charcoal black, no one could tell the difference. No one had considered this, not until Klark._

_Leksa stomped her foot exasperatedly. “Klark I’m begging you! You know what happens if we get caught”._

_Klark snorted and playfully swatted Leksa’s arm. “Not if we use white ink, Leks. Sit down”._

_Reluctantly Leksa sat down while a triumphant grin spread across Klark’s chubby, little cheeks. She held out her hand, motioning for Leksa to give Klark hers._

_“Fine!” Leksa sighed grumpily, as she more or less slapped her hand into Klark’s._

_Carefully, Klark turned Leksa’s hand over, giving her full access to the brunettes wrist. Within a few minutes, Leksa pulled her hand away to inspect the damage. But she only had room for adoration and love in her heart. She admired the tiny ‘K’ which was barely there on the inside of her wrist, only visible if you were really having a close inspection._

_“Why on my left?” Leksa asked, after Klark had just as carefully scribbled a small ‘L’ on the inside of her wrist._

_“Well you know I can’t write with my left hand so it had to be on the left side... but it’s also the side your heart is on. Mine too. So that way, we’re always close to each other’s hearts.” Her triumphant grin and the glint in her eyes had all but faded, replaced with an insurmountable amount love in those blue depths._

_Leksa smiled softly at Klark before she leaned in and kissed the tip of Klark’s little, button nose. The simple action never failed to get a response from Klark, no matter how hard she tried to ignore the bubbling and giddy feeling the small kiss ignited in her stomach._

_The girl shied away and scrunched her nose, feigning disgust, but in that moment, they both knew they would be together forever. In that moment, Leksa knew she loved Klark. She had always loved Klark and she always would, and she knew that Klark loved her back, just as much._

  
**Present Day**

There were many things that Leksa had grown accustomed to over the years. Her breakfast of bread and berries being delivered at the exact time every morning to her quarters as the sun light beamed through her windows, the weekly training sessions with her young natblida’s and the way Aden, the most advanced of her little warriors, would give a sly grin each time he’d manage to get a hit on Leksa in their sparring.

The daily check ups and disappointing scowls she received from Titus, even the way one of her guards would silently mouth beat to himself out of habit during the long night posts, and consequently keep Leksa up.

One thing she had not grown accustomed to was Klark’s return. Sure she had known Klark as a child, but it had been so long since she had been in the company of the girl that she no longer knew exactly how to act or what to say. They were two very different people now, and Leksa knew they would have to start all over again. She knew it would be like meeting a stranger, if only Klark would wake the hell up like the healer had called her in for.

Klark no longer looked like the girl Leksa knew, apart from her striking blue eyes, no, Leksa could never forget them. But it felt as if a lifetime had passed during those years and Leksa was left staring at nothing but a memory of who she once knew.

Klark had grown considerably, her hair had lengthened out and was ratted at the ends like she hadn’t cut it in years. Her face was beautiful and rounded, yet had an unshakeable hardness to it, even in her slumber. She still had her little beauty mark above her upper lip which made her all the more beautiful. Her body had matured immensely, but underneath her clothes were layers upon layers of scars, both external and internal.

Her battered and scarred skin told stories that Leksa wished she not know, but it was easy for her to tell the causes of most scars just by looking at them, seeing as how she had inflicted them on her enemies many times. The bruises which swallowed every patch of soft milky skin looked as if they had been inflicted day and night everyday since her kidnapping. Her cut lip, black eye and reddened face looked as if it were brand new.

But most of all, there was a noticeable scar among them all, a branding that was situated at the base of her neck, which Leksa knew to mean one thing, Azgeda. What looked like a crescent moon and a bow and arrow situated within the curve was seared into Klark’s soft skin. Just the idea that Klark had been branded in such a way almost made Leksa come undone, just the idea of the pain that it would have caused Klark made Leksa’s blood boil with hate.

Nia had stolen years and years of her life, years that she spent looking for Klark. Years that she could have spent with Klark by her side. The day that Klark was kidnaped was the day that Leksa’s world was ripped open from the inside out.

And Nia has stolen years of Klark’s life doing God knows what to the girl. Years which would have felt more like centuries. Leksa had not known the feeling of hate or rage until that day, and now that Klark was back, those feelings were stronger than ever.

The two who were once peas in a pod, had led extremely different lives up until now, and while they were once only mere millimetres apart, inseparable, now it seemed like lightyears. It was as though the girl that Leksa knew was trapped in a distant darkness, just begging to be set free, and Leksa sat there helpless while the person who meant the most to her just slipped away.

Even with all the Skaikru technology that Leksa had ordered to the tower, there was not much they could do for the girl apart from cleaning her wounds and sedating her. Leksa had never felt so entirely helpless in her life. Fate sure has a way of kicking people when they’re down, because this was worse than not knowing of Klark.

No, now she has Klark, physically in her hands but metaphorically she did not, the girl was simply not there. And it broke Leksa over and over each second she sat there staring at the love her life, unconscious, bruised, battered and drifting.

She couldn’t and wouldn’t blame Klark though. Leksa could only speculate of the hardships and torturous years that Klark had enjured, and she reminded herself that who you are, and who you need to be to survive are two very different people.

Klark had survived through it all, and it wouldn’t surprise Leksa if she woke up a different person because of it, she expected it. Klark had survived by suppressing every single bit of herself, down to a microscopical, sub-atomic level, that was ever once ‘ _Klark_ ’. And it showed, in everything that Leksa saw of the girl, it showed.

That’s just it. Leksa could read Klark like a book, she knew what made her tick, what made her happy. She knew everything there was to know about Klark and she knew that somewhere deep down was her Klark. She just had to find a way to break through.

But if there really was anything physical left of the girl that Leksa knew to mean that this was _her_ Klark, then it was the small tattooed inscription of the letter ‘L’ which was found on the inside of Klark’s left wrist. Her left wrist because it was easy to hide from her mother, and it was closer to her heart than the right wrist.

But Leksa doubted if Klark would even remember the story behind it, she doubted Klark would even remember its existence, much less her own.

“Hello? Klark?” Leksa spoke quietly and vulnerably as Klark began to stir.

The girl’s eyes fluttered open and closed, open and closed until they snapped open revealing her penetrating cerulean orbs. Leksa sat there, unaware of what to say. A million things rushed through her mind, how she wanted to hug Klark, kiss her, bombard her with questions and affection. Instead she sat there like a deer caught in the headlights, like a circuit that had been overloaded with electricity, that was until blue depths once again met her forest gaze. It was then that Leksa felt herself slip away.

The connection was electric and Leksa was positive that Klark had felt it too with the way she shifted in the bed. It was If in that moment, Leksa had conveyed everything she was thinking without actually saying anything, and she was brought right back into her past. Suddenly she was a little kid again, staring at her best friend.

She vaguely heard the mumbling of someone speaking, but it sounded too distant to hear, that was until she felt a warm hand shaking her arm out of her mindless trance.

“Huh?” Lexa rasped, still struggling to believe that this was actually real.

Cerulean eyes narrowed at her briefly before Klark spoke again, and the sound was like music to her ears. It was like a sweet, sweet melody that warmed her insides and in contrast, left her shivering.

It had been so long since she had heard that voice, _her_ voice. It was a little unfamiliar, matured and more husked than Leksa remembered, but still it rivalled a symphony.

“Hello?” Klark rasped again, almost yelling.

Leksa shook her head in embarrassment. “I’m sorry... Hi”.

Again cerulean eyes narrowed at her even tighter than before, and Leksa silently scolded herself that of all things she could have said, all things she wanted to say, it was “hi”.

Klark let out a huff of annoyance. “Yeah, where am I? And who are you?”

Just like that, Leksa was sucked into a vortex of nothingness. Just like that she felt the pain of losing Klark again, except it was a hundred fold the pain of the first time. Klark did not recognise her, Klark did not know her.

The words were like acid to her ears, melting down her hope, searing through her happiness like it was yesterday’s news. She had prepared herself for this, but one can never fully prepare for such things. The pain she felt in this moment was insurmountable.

“You’re safe... in Polis.” Leksa managed while she choked back her feelings, registering that Klark had seen the pain ripple through her entire being.

Klark nodded. “And who are _you_?”

“Klark... do you not recognise me?” Leksa’s lower lip trembled as she spoke.

“Who?” Klark scoffed.

“Klark. _You. You’re_ Klark.” Leksa clarified.

A barely audible snort sounded from Klark. “I think you have me confused with someone el—“

Before she could finish, Leksa had already cut in with her denial. “Look, you probably witnessed horrific things and it must have been traumatising. I understand that a _lot_ of what you must have been through has been traumatising. But I want you to feel comfortable talking to me, I want to help you, Klark” Leksa huffed out, quietly heaving for breath.

“I’m flattered, really. But I seriously think you have me conf—

“No. You’ve been through a lot so it’s understandable that you don’t remember. But you _are_ Klark Kom Trikru.” Leksa interrupted again.

“No I’m not. I think I would know where I come from.” Klark spoke a little more icily.

It was a back and fourth game between the two girls, like they were kids again. One in denial, the other not, except the stakes were much higher. And just like they were kids, neither girl backed down from their position.

“And where exactly is that?” Lexa retorted with same venom laced tone.

“I was born in the wastelands and my parents left me as a child. I’ve been scavenging since as long as I can remember. I may not know exactly who I am but I know that I’m not the person you think I am.” Klark lied confidently, having memorised exactly what her backstory would be having journeyed to Polis.

Leksa raised her brows, pursed her lips and nodded sarcastically. “And tell me, how did you know to light that specific signal fire the other day?” Leksa pressed

“Lucky guess” Klark retorted stoically.

Leksa was beyond annoyed now, and her face muscles physically flinched with retraint. “Klark, listen—“ she clipped, exasperatedly.

“No! You listen!” Klark raised her voice taking Leksa off guard, not quite yelling but not far off. “Just stop. I’m not your friend, okay? I don’t know who you think I am but I’m not “Klark” or whoever she is. I think you may need this bed more than I do right now.”

The room went silent and the atmosphere was thickening and uncomfortable. Both girls stilled in awkwardness, neither reaching each other’s gaze again. No one spoke to the Commander like that if they wanted to keep their lives, no one. It was only last year that Leksa kicked a man off the top of the Polis tower for questioning her decisions on a formal matter.

But this wasn’t just anybody, this was Klark.

“Look, I’m tired... and I’d like to be alone” Klark mumbled.

Reluctantly, Leksa gave a curt nod and rose gracefully from her seat, despite the annoyance she felt moments ago, she felt the swelling of tears in her eyes.

“As you wish. I will have someone come in and check on you shortly”. Leksa spoke over her shoulder.

“Wait... you’re not my healer?” Klark questioned, her face scrunched in a way she always used to do.

Leksa smirked over her shoulder as she opened the door to leave. “No... I’m the Commander”.

Despite Klark’s pleas and her denials, Leksa was adamant that she would help Klark remember who she was. It was the very least she could do, and it was very _Leksa_. Doing things that people didn’t want her to do, especially things Klark didn’t want her to do. She left the room with a crooked smile, remembering many a time her and Klark had bickered over such trivial things as children.

Klark was always so stubborn and hot headed as a child, Leksa thought. She guessed that some things just never do change.

* * *

It didn’t take long for word to get back to the Ice Nation that Wanheda had successfully infiltrated Polis. It was at the ambassadors meeting which Leksa had called the day following Klark’s return where there was mention of three warriors who had not returned from their posts, and consequently had been declared as missing. Of course the Azgeda ambassador knew this to be the beginning of their plan.

He quickly sent the message back to Queen Nia of Wanheda’s success. Although, as equally satisfied as she was, Nia was also skeptical. The eagerness that the blonde had shown upon mention of the mission was the initial tick, it was then the following prompts of encouragement from the girl that had Nia doubtful of her loyalty.

As she once said, it wasn’t the girl’s ability she was wary of, it was her loyalty. Somewhere along the line, Nia knew that the girl would get to an age where she would want to be free. Nia was cunning, and she had thought of everything before anyone else had, this continually left her at lead a move ahead.

There was no denying that the girl was a huge asset, in fact the greatest that Azgeda had ever seen, but all good deeds come undone, all good assets eventually implode. And sometimes, they need to be put down, much like a mare gone wild. In this case, Wanheda is the mare.

The Queen was careful in reserving herself and her suspicions, but the blonde was not as careful as she hoped. Nia saw through the confident and innocent facade she played at immediately. And now that the girl was not in fact dead and was hours away, she was problem. A problem which had to be dealt with.

“Ah Roan, my boy” Nia smirked victoriously.

The large man scooted his way toward his Queen, kneeling before her in more out of fear than respect. “Mother, you requested my presence?”

The malevolent glint never left Nia’s icey glare as she spoke. “Yes. I need you to do me a little favour. I need you to check up our girl, and make sure she’s doing her job”. Her voice was laced with venom and was sickeningly sweet, a satisfied grin pulling to cheeks.

Roan was beyond nervous now. He knew not of his mother’s intentions, or for the blonde’s for that matter, but he knew there was no double crossing the Queen. And if the blonde was not holding up her end of the mission and was planning against Nia, then she was effectively signing her death certificate.

“M-mother, I can vouch for her that she is” Roan stuttered.

“You’re about as good at lying as you are at growing your hair” Nia shot back.

The insidious smirk on her face quickly disappeared to something far more twisted. “You overstep” the woman clipped, “Know your place before I put you in it. I am not asking you. Every warrior has their expiration date, my son, and hers has come.”

Roan shook his head. “What about those other two riders you sent off a few days ago? I can only assume they are redundancies?”

Nia clapped victoriously, _once, twice_. “My boy, asking the big questions are we. I’m starting to question how well you know me?”

“You’re not the only one” Roan mumbles to himself, “Apparently not that well”

All manner of humour dropped from Nia’s face, in an instant, her expression was blank but her eyes her like daggers. “It is _your_ head or hers”.

  
“Mother—“

“Leave us” Nia dismissed with a wave of her hand.

Roan left the room just as stiffly as he entered it, before another tall figure stepped out of the shadows of his mothers quarters.

“What would you like me to do, my Queen?” The figure asked.

Nia shot the person a look from the corner of her eyes. “Ride to Polis. If the girl fails, kill her. If she succeeds, kill her. And if my dear son decides her life more valuable than my command, kill him too.”

* * *

_“Ha”_

_“Ha”_

_“Aaaaahhhhhh ha!”_

“ _Good_! Brilliant work Aden” Leksa smiled warmly at the slightly shorter, lanky blonde boy.

Out of all Leksa’s young natblida’s, Aden was the most promising to take the conclave after Leksa’s death. The boy was tall for his age, slender and honestly goofy looking. But, he was quick, light footed, stronger than he looked and the most accurate striker Leksa had seen in all her years.

The boy’s skills even surpassed those of some of her warriors, not his strength of course, but his skills were much advanced for his age. From a twenty foot target, the boy could accurately throw a small knife in the bullseye every time, and from a thirty foot target, the boy could shoot an arrow in the bullseye near every time.

“Again!” Leksa called.

More recently than not, Leksa had been training him harder and harder than any of the other natblida’s, and harder than she ever had before. It was a pivotal point in time where her natblida’s were at the age where they were either good enough, or not, they could survive or they couldn’t.

It is the Commander’s job to asses all their natblida’s and select the most promising to train for an actual conclave, only the Commander and Titus knew of this process. It was harsh, but it was necessary to ensure that the natblida who takes the flame is worthy of it, and that they possess the skills to protect it.

This week though, the training also had a different purpose. For Leksa, it was a way to release all her pent up sadness, frustration and stress she had been feeling the past few months, particularly since Klark’s return.

It was a way for her to channel that energy into something useful and constructive, aswell as a release so she doesn’t reach critical and implode.

“Aden is getting better” Leksa commented lowly to Titus after training was finished. “He’s much better now than I was at that age”.

Titus nodded his agreement, ever formal. “He is, Heda. I suspect he will only improve.”

“Agreed”.

There was something about talking with Titus that was different than anyone else for Leksa. Titus was the closest person she had to a father figure now, but his constant remarks, critiques and even his suggestions made him seem more like a wise old grandpa than a father.

But there was also a tense formality between the two aswell. While Leksa was the Commander and Titus’s superior, he still guided her and mentored her out of his experience. Leksa still listened to her like he was the teacher and she the student.

The dynamic of their relationship would be strange to many people and nonsensical, but it was efficient.

“I must confess, Heda, you have been awfully quiet since your friend’s return” Titus prodded.

Leksa nodded. “There isn’t much to say, Titus. She doesn’t remember me”

“And you’re not just going to stand by that are you?” Titus asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

Leksa chuckled heavy heartedly. “Of course not. But I can’t force her to remember me if she can’t... or if she doesn’t _want_ to.” It was a concept that Leksa didn’t even want to think about.

Titus cleared his throat awkwardly. “Can I offer you some advice, Heda?”, Titus proceeded after Leksa’s nod. “Give her time. I have no doubt she is the girl you lost, so give her time and let her remember on her own. The more she figures out on her own, the more willing she’ll be when you’re there to help her”.

Leksa nodded, really mulling over Titus’s words. Maybe he was alright, maybe all Klark needed was time to figure out who she was, or at least time to remember something, anything. It was something Leksa could force onto the girl, she had to do it on her own. And Leksa would be there when Klark needed her.

* * *

Going anywhere lately had been a difficult task for Klark lately, especially under the watchful eye of the Commander. In spite of all her training both mentally and physically, Klark was utterly baffled at how the Commander was acting.

Sure she suspected correctly when she thought that it would be difficult to really do anything, considering she was a stranger who was plucked from the forest after killing three Trikru men and dumping their bodies.

And sure she knew that the Commander would be watching her _every_ move _all_ day _every_ day. That was entirely expected. What was not expected was the reason why the Commander was doing such a thing.

She wasn’t watching Klark out of suspicion or wariness, but out of protection and responsibility. In the short time that Klark had already spoken with her, she had gathered that the Commander believed she was her long lost childhood friend, which was absolutely ridiculous, and that the girl was just as stubborn and defensive as she was. Klark had to literally stop herself from laughing at how absurd it was.

Out of every possible scenario she imagined to make things easier, she never imagined this one. No, this scenario was damn near perfect. In fact, it was perfect.

The Commander had almost shed some tears when talking to her, she even swore she saw one fall when the Commander turned to leave. But instead of being kicked aside and shuffled along, the Commander had brought her in with open arms, literally, as a broken, battered and deference girl.

How in the heck was Klark this lucky to have such a thing fall into her lap. If she actually believed in fate, then she’d believe it was on her side.

If Leksa thought she was a battered, bruised and defenceless girl, then that’s the girl she had to act like. That was the girl she had to be, for the sake of her mission, and for the sake of her freedom.

She would have to be convincing in everything she does for her to maintain the belief in the Commander that she really was her childhood best friend. All her years of training had to be put into this one mission at full throttle. But how hard could it be?

She had deceived the entire coalition about Wanheda, so how hard could convincing the Commander that she was her long lost best friend be? She was already practically there, as long as Nia doesn’t come sniffing around, she’d be golden.

There was definitely no room for error in this mission. She didn’t just have to pretend, she had to become this ‘Klark’ or whoever the poor soul was, because there was no way that the Commander could find out who she really is. Her life expectancy would plummet from a hundred to zero in a matter of seconds if that happened.

Klark was in no position to have spent her entire life as a slave, only to be killed while fighting for her freedom, that’s no life at all, that’s just tragic.

Again, luckily for Klark, she had been released from the infirmary five days later and had the chance to genuinely explore the capital and the rest of TonDC. As an Azgedian prisoner, she was confined to a limited area. Even when she completed mission for her Queen, she was still on leash, and still not actually free.

This was the first time in a long, long time that Klark felt like she was her own person, and not just a puppet. It was the first time she was living her life as how she wanted to, doing the things she wanted to, and she basked in the feeling of it.

If she was honest, if what she felt now was a tangible thing, she’d marry it without question. Despite her current circumstances and mission, she was absolutely free, free of being a prisoner, free of being a puppet, and free of being Nia’s little pet.

Among all the amazing things Klark had been experiencing for the first time in her life, she felt a wave of nostalgia. There was something in the air she smelt that made her feel as if it wasn’t the first time. There was something about this place that connected freakishly deep within Klark.

Everything felt entirely foreign to her, yet at the same time it felt like home. But maybe it was just the atmosphere right? It must have just been the fact that the place practically screamed like domestic and peaceful. It couldn’t have been anything else... or could it have?

In the distance Klark spotted someone familiar, someone she knew _very_ well.

“Niylah!” Klark called across the crowd of people separating them.

A warm face looked up and met her own with a gentle smile and kind eyes. Klark really had been in paradise the day she met Niylah. It was after a raid in a village on the outskirts of Azgeda that she was attacked badly. After a few hours of trouble and certain death from sepsis and blood loss, she came across Niylah, gentle smile and kind eyes Niylah.

The elder woman pulled her from her horse and treated her until she was healthy enough to make her journey back to the Queen. In return, Klark had promised to visit Niylah and give her some of the things she’d scavenged from the raids. That being either currency, weapons, herbs, clothing, anything she could to repay Niylah for saving her life.

It was the only positive relationship she had in her life, and after a few months of these visits, they became more intimate. But it was more than just the sex, underneath it all, Klark felt empty. No matter what she did or what she tried, she couldn’t fill this empty void of nothingness and despair inside of her, Niylah was a release from that.

Niylah didn’t fix Klark, but she helped Klark learn to fix herself. She worshipped Klark for her physical scars and her mental scars aswell. She showed Klark what it felt like to be touched, to be loved and to be cared for, something which was an unfamiliar concept for Klark. She listened to Klark, let Klark bare her soul and stories to her, and she would stroke the baby hairs from Klark’s face while she nodded along.

Most importantly though, she grounded Klark. When Klark was floating off into the abyss, Niylah grounded her and kept her sane. Niylah provided her a sense of well-being and a sense of a proper life.

She wasn’t just a slave or a prisoner, or even ‘blondie’ or ‘ _girl_ ’, to Niylah, she was a person, or more accurately, she was ‘Bella’, which Niylah discovered meant beautiful in Italian, an old and extinct language used before the apocalypse.

Obviously Klark didn’t actually love Niylah like she was her soulmate, in fact, Klark wondered if she could actually even love anyone at all, or maybe she just hadn’t met the person she was meant to love.

But that gentle smile and those kind eyes making their way over to her, Klark felt like rainbows and unicorns.

“Bella! What are you doing in Polis?” Niylah asked as she gently caressed Klark’s cheek.

“I...it’s not really important” Klark stuttered. “I’ve missed you though...”

Niylah smiled sweetly before taking Klark’s hand in her own and giving her cheek a quick peck. “I’ve missed you, Bella. Come with me.” And Niylah gently dragged Klark along behind her.

* * *

The time had come again for the monthly ambassadors meeting. Leksa listened for what seemed like hours of voices droning on until something noticeable caught her attention; the disappearance of _Wanheda_.

The attacks had stopped and the elusive Wanheda seemed to be gone with the wind, which was another thing less for Leksa to worry about. Ambassador meetings were her least favourite time of the month and she was glad once the last few had finally left her quarters.

After dismissing her guards and Titus, Leksa let out a long and exasperated sigh. Being Commander was tough, it was no easy task, and Leksa had done her job spectacularly for years. All her wishes having come true and her reigning having brought the changes she wished throughout the coalition.

A change was evident and the people noticed Leksa, not only as their leader, but as a friend, as someone they can look up to for guidance and help. Leksa lived to serve her people and she had done so beautifully, with grace. But underneath that facade was a small girl who was suffering under the pressure and expectations of it all.

Everyone wanted something from her, wanted her to do certain things, say certain things, act a certain way and while Leksa played a good poker face, sometimes it was just too much. Now, with the addition of Klark back into her life, Leksa was amazed she hadn’t combusted and disintegrated underneath it all.

A girl can only take so much in her life, and while Leksa could hold more on her plate than most, she was still a girl. At the drop of a hat things could change and flip around her. She hoped that it wouldn’t, because it could potentially mean the end of her time, but she knew of the possibilities of it being right around the corner.

The sun was setting over the hills and Leksa took to her balcony, her hands separated along the concrete railing. She slumped her weight on her hands, while still remaining poised and graceful, if that was even possible. Orange, pink, purple and blue hues lit up the the sky in streams above the quickly fading sun and fast encroaching night.

It was eerily reminiscent of that day sixteen years ago with Klark, but Leksa pushed the nostalgia away. She didn’t have time for it when her forest eyes caught sight of bright blonde hair beneath her, her favourite sight in the entire world.

She watched on as Klark shuffled through the crowd of people in the markets below, but then she felt her heart drop into her stomach in a matter of seconds. Her vision swam and her mind drowned it agonising hurt and betrayal. It felt as if the very world around her was shattering into a million pieces. It felt as if she had been beat in the stomach repeatedly and she was about to faint or hurl, either of the two.

But it was probably just all her pent up emotions and stress she’d been suppressing right? It was probably just her expected implosion.

Her eyes misted with pain and her hands twitched to reach out for Klark but how could she? How could she when she was up here and Klark was down there with her.

It was in that moment, Leksa knew she loved Klark. Her feelings never really went away, but in that moment, she knew that Klark did not love her back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the love and feedback so far, keep it coming! It makes writing these fictions so much more easier and fulfilling! I hope everyone had a safe and happy new year!
> 
> Sorry for the feels if they hit you like a bullet train! This story is meant to be sad, difficult and somewhat depressing. But it gets better! Trust me! Clexa is endgame and their love will be explosive in this! I’ve tried to include some humour in this to lighten the mood, I’m also interested to see you guys’ theories on what will happen! 
> 
> Remember! Please let me know if you want anything to happen/not happen. Any wishes you have for the fiction, I’m already set on some things but I love to include your ideas. 
> 
> I’ve heard your comments about “Lostia”, okay so first I can’t completely wipe out that ship - Costia was an important part of Leksa’s life in a time where everything was bad, so please keep that in mind. Although I will keep it light, however, I have plans to bring back Niylah for a bit because she’s adorable. I’ve hinted that Niylarke (briefly! don’t hate me) are a thing so Niylah has come in, but she will be an easy going sweetheart and not a permanent interest for Klark as the story develops! Please trust me on this one if you aren’t a fan of Niylah, give me a chance! 
> 
> Sorry for any errors/mistakes, I try to catch them all. Let me know if there is a noticeable one!
> 
> Love your love, enthusiasm, questions and feedback in general guys! Keep it up! I make sure to get to everyone who has something to say! (Without revealing too much of course!)


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Throughout her entire life, everything Klark had done, faced or endured was either black or white, yes or no, live or die. It was just that simple, but coming into to Polis and meeting the Commander the way she did had an unshakeable complexity about it. Things weren’t just black and white anymore, they were a series of grey, blues, yellows, you name it, it was it. 
> 
> **
> 
> Stay... such a simple word with such a universal depth. What did it mean exactly, Klark didn’t know, all she knew was that things were definitely not as they seemed, nor as how she expected things to be. And very rarely was Klark wrong.
> 
> A/N: Sorry for another delay! I’ve had barely any time to write during my days! (Truthfully I do my best writing after a couple glasses of champagne :p)

**Eight Years Ago**

_Two figures stood in an empty training pit, the sun long but gone down. The moon illuminated the dark, spotted sky, and the still earth below. One figure stood plastered to the floor like a lifeline, back straight and tight as a coil while the taller figure circled the smaller, eyeing them closely, their flinches, their ticks, their nervous exhales and the small but defined goose bumps which had risen over their tanned skin._

_Leksa never liked to disappoint Anya, but more importantly, she never liked to disappoint her mentor. This was not Anya, this was her mentor. They were one in the same person, yet both very different. Anya never held any expectations over Leksa, but her mentor did. Anya was always pleased with the dedication and commitment Leksa showed in training, her mentor thought she could show more. Anya praised Leksa for all her achievements and skill, her mentor pushed her to become even better. Anya would nurture Leksa when she fell, her mentor would tell her she had to be stronger and more resilient._

_Anya was water while her mentor was fire. Anya was air while her mentor was earth. Both parts of the woman captivated Leksa intently, like a moth to a flame. And both parts protected Leksa immensely, like a calf and it’s mother._

_Leksa was taught, she listened, learned, and strived to be the person which took her in when there was no one else. Anya was the one woman who looked after Leksa like a daughter when the girl’s world crumbled._

_Since Anya’s firstborn, Tris, died at childbirth, she dedicated her time toward training nightbloods, but never did she imagine she would meet someone quite like Leksa. Leksa was ruthless in training, but she was also merciful, she was compassionate but also stoic and fierce. She held herself high and dished up ten fold what she was served._

_Leksa was a leader beneath the surface, begging to break free, but a leader all the same. And Anya realised that within the first ten minutes of meeting the girl fifteen years ago. So Leksa’s mentor trained her harder than any nightblood before, trained her to become the leader which Anya had always hoped she become._

_Her mentor’s voice roused Leksa from her nervous ponder. “Why did you pause?”._

_“What do you mean?” Leksa stammered._

_A displeased sigh sounded from behind Leksa. “Why did you pause?” The voice sounded again, each word punctuated with a silent fullstop._

_“I.... we were just training” Leksa murmured nervously._

_As if on cue, her mentor appeared before her, her head cocked to the side. A clear signal of her mentor’s dissatisfaction. “Would you have paused if it were a conclave?”._

_Leksa exhaled. “No....”_

_Her mentor took a step closer, and placed a long, calloused hand upon her shoulder. “Your compassion and mercy is your biggest strength, Leksa, but it is and will be also your biggest downfall, particularly when you become Heda. You have to be smarter than that”._

_Leksa mentally rolled her eyes. “Why do you think I will become Heda?”_

_Her mentor smirked, that facade slowly fading away while Anya broke through to the surface. “Why are you so sure you won’t be?”_

_“Well... Luna... she’s.... she’s good” Leksa over gestured her hands as if to emphasise her point._

_“Luna is good, but she is not you Leksa.” The taller woman reinforced, this was definitely Anya speaking now. “You don’t just fight with your body or your mind, you fight with your heart. You fight with everything you have and everything you are. You stand alone from the rest, Leksa. And I will be there with you every step of the way, I will be there in every capacity you want me to. You need only ask”._

  
**Present Time**

There were very few things which Leksa was grateful for in her seemingly death plagued life. One of those things was Klark, another her people, and lastly, Anya. After the Commander had instituted the law for young natblida’s to be taken from their homes fifteen years ago, each little warrior was given a mentor.

Someone who would train their minds, bodies and souls for the purpose of becoming Heda. They would train day in and day out, striving for that one goal. Each child competed with one another, competing for the ultimate prize, Heda. Unfortunately, over the history of Commanders, many nightbloods made the ultimate sacrifice aswell so that only one alone would arise to the throne.

That was until Leksa’s conclave, when her most rivalled foe, Luna, disappeared. This of course only secured Leksa’s conquer and position on the throne, but her mentor, Anya, never let the fact that Luna left belittle or downgrade Leksa’s victory.

It was more than just a mentor, mentee relationship between the two. Many mentor’s developed strong emotional attachments to their young nightbloods. For Leksa though, it was much, much more.

Anya had in a way, adopted the role of a motherly figure to Leksa, and in return, Leksa was like the daughter Anya briefly had. Leksa marvelled and admired Anya in so many ways. Her fierce, yet soft demeanour. Her intimidating, icey glare which was reserved for everyone except Leksa. Her broad and solid stance which warned off anyone who thought to even look at her the wrong way.

It was Anya who took Leksa in and cared for her after the attack. It was Anya who rushed to her side each night for years on end each time Leksa would wake screaming. It was Anya who consoled and slowly, but surely, mended the broken little girl. It was Anya who again, left her post to ride to the capital to stand by Leksa after Costia’s murder, and it was Anya who promised Leksa that no matter how hard or evil the world got, she would never leave.

For years, the woman was everything and anything Leksa needed her to be. Anya taught Leksa what it was like to live again, to feel again. She guided Leksa both as a daughter, and as a second, teaching her everything she knew, and in turn, learning things she never could have with anyone else.

The woman was no doubt the warrior which Leksa had aspired to be growing up. The two were practically inseparable, but that was before Costia and the conclave. Before Leksa had officially welcomed Skaikru to the coalition, there were a few hiccups along the way. Hiccups that were in Anya’s jurisdiction as a Trikru unit leader, which meant most of her time was devoted to communicating with the sky invaders.

Shortly after Skaikru’s official welcoming to the treaty, Leksa had posted Anya, along with the chief of Tondc, Indra, alongside the Skaikru camp. This meant that as time went by, Leksa saw her mentor less and less. But it was a necessary decision, considering both Anya and Indra had developed a bond with two of Skaikru’s most trusted people, Raven and Octavia respectively.

Still, that didn’t mean that Leksa never saw her former mentor, it was just a rare luxury. But whenever she did, it was certainly as if no time had passed.

The doors to the Leksa’s quarters flung open, and Anya, a little older, and a little more weary, but still the same, came skipping into room.

The smile on Leksa’s face rivalled a supernova and she eagerly skipped over to embrace her mentor, formalities completed tossed aside.

“Leks!” Anya screeched inbetween being squashed in hugs. “Is it true?!”

For a moment, Leksa had blanked, far too ecstatic to be in the presence for Anya, only for a moment. “Yeah” She awkwardly coughed.

Anya’s brows furrowed in interest, and she took Leksa’s hands and led her to the sofa. “And why do you sound like you’ve just spent the last couple hours in one of your ambassadors meetings?” Anya teased.

It was pointless to try and lie to Anya. After all those years, Anya could read her like a book, so Leksa informed Anya of Klark’s arrival, aswell as the supposedly “suspicious circumstances” she arrived in, according to Titus. She also explained how Klark didn’t recognise her, but chose to leave out mention of the girl she saw Klark with not too long ago.

Anya took in the overload of information, nodding in understanding, squeezing Leksa’s hand in reassurances, even cocking her head in empathy. “I’m sorry, Leks. You know this isn’t how I wanted things to go for you.”

Leksa released a shaky breath, tears just brimming the edge of her eyes. “I know... it’s just, I finally get her back but it’s like she’s not even here. It’s not her. And I know you taught me to be stronger than this and to be more resilient, but...”

Anya brushed a fallen tear from Leksa’s regal cheekbones, and cupped her jaw. “But it’s Klark...” Leksa nodded, because Anya knew full well just how sensitive and damaging this topic was to Leksa.

Anya comfortingly pulled Leksa into her chest, like she did all those years ago when Leksa had her night terrors, which were more like memories of the attack on a continuous loop. “I’m so sorry, Leksa. You are strong. Stronger than I ever imagined, and you are brilliant. The important thing is that Klark is home, and she is safe, even if she doesn’t know it yet, she will. You need to decide if you want to help her remember who she is, whatever the cost, or if you want to leave her at arms length.”

Leksa let out a sad chuckle. “And how do I know what the best decision is... for both of us?”

“Figure our whether you want her to remember for _you_ , or for _her_ ”, Anya continued soothing her. “You always have made the best decisions, Leks. And no one can make this one except you.”

Leksa nodded while Anya gently stroked the baby hairs behind her ears. “Does Abi know?”

Leksa shook her head, burying herself into Anya’s shoulder. Moments like these were the only times Leksa was really allowed to drop her Commanding facade and feel the wrath of emotions she so constantly buried away. It was moments like these when she wasn’t Heda anymore, she was just Leksa. The Leksa who felt and the Leksa who cried. The two women stayed comfortable on the sofa, both lulling into a secure, warm and blissful sleep.

* * *

 

It had been just over a week now since Klark was released from the infirmary, and true to her word, she was sending reports back to Nia of her progress so far, which was ultimately not that much. Then again, there really was no point in sending back word to Nia, she was already a step ahead of Klark, make that two, large and dense steps, or so Nia thought.

Like a sixth sense, Klark had the feeling as though she was being watched. Not just from Nia though, that’s was obvious, it didn’t take long to spot the two dweebs lumping around, always within eye shot. The woman didn’t even trust her own family, let alone Klark to keep her promises.

But Klark had the feeling she was being watched by Leksa aswell. It wasn’t difficult to spot Leksa nor her guards either. Two days ago when Klark had been trading gold pieces for meat, she noticed some large men duck out of sight the second she saw them. The following day she saw those same two men by the river while she was fetching some water.

Then with her short but sweet reunion with Niylah, Klark could practically feel the Commander’s gaze being burnt through head, even from the top balcony. It wouldn’t be a surprise if Niylah had noticed either.

Curious, Klark couldn’t decide whether it was out of distrust or protection. She had clearly made an impression on the Commander in the infirmary, a greater impression than she had ever hoped to make. But whether the results of that were negative or positive, Klark couldn’t decide. Being watched only made her task that much more difficult, that much more likely to slip up, and her freedom that much more out of reach.

However, that wasn’t the only thing playing on Klark’s mind. No, something else entirely had dominated her thoughts, and that was “Klark”. Whatever it was or whoever it was, the Commander obviously thought she was it. “ _Klark Kom Trikru_ ”, the Commander’s words bounced off the walls of her mind like an infinite echo.

Throughout her entire life, everything Klark had done, faced or endured was either black or white, yes or no, live or die. It was just that simple, but coming into to Polis and meeting the Commander the way she did had an unshakeable complexity about it. Things weren’t just black and white anymore, they were a series of grey, blues, yellows, you name it, it was it.

It was as though she was in an entire new world altogether without actually having left earth, and Klark’s perception on everything she knew was rapidly changing. No longer did she feel one hundred per cent impulsive about everything, she could actually do things in leisure and live in the moment, instead of worrying about the next.

It was like every one of her senses had been warped and replaced so that now, Klark no longer knew what was what anymore, and she couldn’t distinguish between the things that were familiar or not.

This was the first time in her life that Klark felt like a different person, the right person. Her senses were heightened, her emotions were off the charts, everything about where she was right now was eerily peaceful and chaotic at the same time.

Now, Klark would never admit this to anyone who asked, but a massive part of everything she encountered seemed so familiar, like she had been here and seen everything. Klark was taught to trust her instincts and learn from them, but right now, her instincts were like an inferno in her gut and they were screaming “stay”.

Stay... such a simple word with such a universal depth. What did it mean exactly, Klark didn’t know, all she knew was that things were definitely not as they seemed, nor as how she expected things to be. And very rarely was Klark wrong.

* * *

The Journey to Polis was longer than he remembered. Roan never really had any need to ride to the capital, but he had done so a few times when he was a boy.

The first time was when Azgeda had their first victor from a conclave, Cormack. His rule was short lived though, as he was assassinated by members of a refugee clan, or more accurately, _Wankru_. With similar meaning to that of _Wanheda_ , instead of meaning ‘Commander of Death’, it meant ‘receivers of death’. Wankru was a refugee clan, previously thought extinct, for the unfortunate souls born with radiation infected DNA.

It was very rare, but every so often, a child was born with a mutated genotype, resulting in a physical deformation. Technology used by the sky people only confirmed that it was a result of radiation seepage in the womb of a pregnant woman.

The mothers themselves were not effected, but the child almost always was, that’s if they weren’t a still born. Those children born with such a deformity were abandoned to die so their genetics were erased from the bloodline they came from, or they were slaughtered by the very people who were responsible for their existence.

Some people, religious people who worshipped Beca Pramheda like a God, believed that the ‘mutant disease’ was bestowed upon infants of the parents who had wronged Beca’s legacy in some way or another. Their punishment was a mutated child.

It was an unfortunate luck of the draw. Some children were born with a radiation poisoning mutation which affected the heme units in hemoglobin, ultimately effecting the binding properties between iron and oxygen. This consequently resulted in darkened blood, or, a natblida, someone who was protected and worshipped, a leader.

Others were not so lucky, and instead were born with radiation poisoning which mutated sections of their genotype which resulted in them being deformed, someone to abandon, an outcast destined to die.

However, every so often, one of those children who were abandoned would be found by a member of Wankru. The Azgedian Commander sought to wipe out Wankru from existence. He believed the people of Wankru were vile stains on the earth, wastes of oxygen. Many people disagreed with his politics, and eventually there was an uprising against him.

There was speculation revolving around the idea of an ‘inside man’ who aided in the assassination of the Azgeda Commander, but no person was found to be at fault.

The second time Roan visited the capital was on his twenty first birthday, when he was eligible to be a potential candidate for the Azgeda Ambassador position. Unfortunately, Nia had requested her son’s return to Ice Nation territory, cutting his potential short.

The third time Roan visited the capital was when Nia threatened his life over Klark’s. The man had absolutely no intention of following through on his mother’s orders. He had known the girl almost her entire life, rather, he sought to warn her, to prepare her for danger in her likely case of betrayal.

Roan knew not of his mother’s intentions, nor of Klark’s, but he knew that he at least owed it to the girl for her to be able to live a normal life. Not a life in captivity, or a life constantly looking over her shoulder. Speaking of, Roan still hadn’t remembered the trip being so long before. Perhaps he took a wrong trail? Or perhaps it was because of the not so inconspicuous redundancy that was following him.

That made three present threats for himself and Klark if things bottomed out. But it was easily expected. The only person Nia had ever trusted was herself, and with Roan’s track record of only recently having his banishment lifted, only to have it replaced again, there was no hope Nia would ever partially trust anything he did or said again.

Shortly after Nia dismissed Roan, he attacked the guards posted outside the armoury, knowing full well that whatever the blonde was planning, she’d need some kind of backup. He stole away with a cart of rifles which had clearly been taken from Skaikru forces at some point. He ditched some within the forest while bringing the rest to Polis. If the weapons weren’t in Azgeda’s hands, then they couldn’t hurt anyone.

Then, he made way to Polis, knowing that his only chance now belonged in the hands of Wanheda.  
  
"Would you look at that, it's the runaway son" the blonde taunted from a low balcony infront of the market square.

Shortly after entering Polis, Roan was retrieved by scouts and brought before the Commander. He narrowly dodge an arrest by informing Leksa of a very real and imminent threat from the Ice Nation, also informing her that three Azgeda warriors had already infiltrated the capital.

Roan grinned in response. "And it's the slave" he mocked in return.

The blonde’s demeanour softened slightly. "I heard what happened... I’m glad you're still alive, Roan”

“Me too.” The taller man sighed, “So how’s your mission going?”

A wicked grin spread across the blonde’s face, and her cerulean pools twinkled with mischief. Roan was reminded of not too long ago when the girl and himself would secretly pull pranks on some of the posted guards back in Azgeda. How they would attach strings to dead snakes and pull them along the floor, much to the guards fright. “Oh you know, just the Commander thinks I’m her long loss childhood friend. I figured I could use it to my advantage and kind of play along with the whole ordeal. It only makes this that much more simple” the blonde spoke confidently.

It’s not that the blonde actually believed that she was the person the Commander though she was, despite her previous conflicted state, she summed that up to nothing but déjà vu. But, God no, that would be preposterous. Her, Klark Kom Trikru, childhood best friend of the Commander, it sounded completely and utterly, made up, and she was not about to believe for one second that that’s who she was, or who she is.

However, she still at least found it intriguing because it was the only source of information to the questions she had been searching answers for, for years.

Roam visibly shifted on his feet and tensed at Klark’s confession, the blonde noticed immediately and it certainly sparked her lingering curiosity even further.

“You okay? I lost you for a second.” The blonde checked in.

“Yeah, no. I’m fine.” He nervously chuckled, mentally canning himself at how to approach the situation. Of course Roan knew who she was, not her name or anything, but it was one of Roan’s very first raids as a teenager, and it was one he’s never forgotten. It was hard to forget the small brunette with piercing green eyes screaming for her friend, considering he looked into those very same eyes less than an hour ago. “You were always the cunning one. How do you know it will work though?” He quickly recovered.

The blonde tsked, condescension that was so very her, plastered on her face. “Every human being is a puzzle of need, Roan. You must become the missing piece and they will tell you anything” she spoke as if it were the most obvious thing.

Roan nodded calmly, but then his face took on a more serious expression. “Look, reunion aside, that’s not why I’m here. I came to tell you something.”

“Sounds serious...” the blonde mused.

“Yeah well, it kind of _is_.” Roan emphasised, “I’m telling you this for your own good, and out of respect. Whatever it is you’re planning, get it done now. Nia will be coming to Polis soon enough. She'll have your head if she sees you so you cannot be here.”

The blonde’s brows furrowed in confusion “What about you?”.

“I’ll be next. I rode away with backup but it will only stretch so far. She doesn’t believe for a second that you’re coming back, so she asked me to take care of you... but I can’t do that.” Roan conceded, his eyes averting to the ground.

The blonde tilted her head. "What ever happened to _your_ loyalty?" She pondered.

"Let's just say loyalty only goes so far once you've been a prisoner for your entire life.” Roan interjected.

The blonde scowled at the larger man and then raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “ _You_... a prisoner?” She scoffed dramatically, as if it were the most ridiculous thing she had heard all week.

Roan’s mood visibly dropped, and his voice lowered an octave, if that was even possible for the man. “You weren’t the only one who was trapped... we all were” he murmured. “I’ll stick around with you but once you’re done here, I’m leaving for good.”

The blonde released a merciless laugh. "No one leaves Roan. You'll always be a prisoner, same as me. Nia would hunt us down. Unless... you give her what she wants” her mouth lifted into a devious smile.

Roan frowned, utterly confused. “Then what do you propose?”

"A trap.” She said suggestively.

"What are you saying? Are you asking me for my help?” Roan’s responded, his eyebrows raised.

The blonde huffed in annoyance. Roan was a kind man but sometimes he was so dense. "I'm saying this could work, and yes, I’m asking for your help. You want a clean slate? To go back home and reclaim your title as Prince, right? I want my freedom, my life back. So, let’s give her what she wants? The throne."

"How do I know I can trust you?” Roan queried.

"Because...” the blonde sighed, “You were the closest thing I had to a friend and I would never betray you. I can take care of Nia, she will be here once I send word that the mission is done. You have until then to decide. Unless you want to spend the rest of a short life running."

Roan nodded. “How will I know when that is?”

“Because...” The blonde smirked victoriously, “They’ll be preparing for the next conclave. Or better yet, the funeral for every living natblida in the capital, and I, will be as far south from here as south goes”.

* * *

The last few days had been a slow drag for Leksa. After her conversation with Anya, she felt even more of an urge to talk to Klark, because as if her sighting of Klark and the other blonde woman wasn’t enough.

During her downtime, Leksa seriously considered what Anya had told her. Anya always had a knack of picking her brain and rendering her mentally incapacitated for a few days. On the self centred side, Leksa could help Klark remember her life for her own self. On a selfless side, she could help Klark remember for Klark’s benefit. Or, on a neural side, Leksa could live her life, knowing Klark was alive and safe, and let Klark carry on living hers.

All three options weighed heavily on Leksa, and neither seemed more right than another. But then it dawned on her. For years of her life, Leksa had been selfless, possibly the most selfless person in the coalition. It was in the Commander’s nature to be selfless, and any Commander who ruled with their own interests at heart, rather than the people’s, had a very short reign.

For years Leksa had been doing things for the benefit of others, so she could afford to be selfish this one time, at least this once.

But then there was Abi. The possibility of Klark figuring it out herself was slim to none, and the idea of leaving Klark alone was not Leksa’s decision to make, it was Abi’s. If Leksa could bring Klark to Abi, then she might not have to leave Klark for good, nor help make Klark remember in her own interests, the girl might very well do it without Leksa’s aid.

There are very few things a single person can forget, one of those being a mother, and a mother’s love. Leksa would recognise her mother in a crowd of thousand even today if she were still alive.

After consulting with some Skaikru doctors, they informed Leksa that it may not be a case of permanent memory loss, more like memory suppression, or an amnesiac state.

The assessment of Klark’s body showed clear traumatic abuse, and Leksa didn’t need any doctor or healer to tell her that mental abuse can be just as scaring as physical abuse. Leksa opened herself to the possibility that Klark was in there, and has been all along, she just needed a trigger. Leksa had considered mentioning the small tattoo that Klark had on her inner left wrist, but decided against it. There would be some other kind of remanence of her old life that could jolt her mind from its protective amnesic state.

At least, that was her plan anyway. For years Leksa had felt guilty for leaving her best friend, but this could be an atonement for her. While Klark remembers, Leksa could finally dump the weight of responsibility off her shoulders that she’d been carrying for fifteen years.

And just as if fate had been on her side, she spotted the blonde walking through the market square.

Leksa paced to catch up to Klark, catching the eyes of many of her people, for it was very rarely that the Commander visited the markets, much less alone.

“Klark?” Leksa called.

The blonde stiffened uncomfortably, clearly having been caught off guard. She turned and Leksa caught her breath. It was still hard to believe that it really was Klark infront of her, it still seemed like a dream or some fantasy, and when blue eyes met green, the connection was electric.

“Sorry... not Klark” Leksa corrected herself. “I just... wanted to see you... you... how you are and your injuries!” Leksa stuttered.

A smirk pulled to the blonde’s face as she found the Commander’s flustered appearance and nervous chatter somehow adorable, obviously all for the mission she did. “Heda” Klark nodded in respect, “I’m well thankyou, just slowly adjusting”.

Leksa’s smile was bright and vibrant “That’s good to hear”.

The woman’s smile hit Klark like nothing else ever had. There was something about that smile which demanded all of Klark’s attention. Only a fool would deny that the Commander was beautiful, and her smile only made her that much more. All for the mission of course.

Klark quickly studied the woman before her, pushing down the familiarity of the Commander’s smile. There were two ways she could play this little conversation. One, she could continue to play dumb, sweet and generic or, she could reel the Commander in. She could open up, use ‘Klark’ as a tactical advantage. But, she wasn’t Klark, she was _Wanheda_ , and _Wanheda_ took no hostages and showed no mercy.

Wanheda was cold, tactical, ruthless, and always looked for an easy kill. Particularly since her run in with Roan, Klark was more motivated than ever to complete her mission, so, she went with the ladder.

“It’s just...” She began, sparking the Commander’s full attention immediately, not that she didn’t have it in the first place. “Have you ever felt something in your life that you can’t explain. And you don’t know why or how, but everything just feels so familiar, almost like home. Only for a second, but then it doesn’t.” Klark poured out, hoping to tug on the Commander’s heart strings, and appeal to her sensitive side about ‘Klark’.

Again, Klark would never admit this to anyone, but she wasn’t exactly lying about her feelings or what she was asking the Commander.

“You have no idea” Leksa murmured, small enough for Klark to miss entirely.

“Well I kind of feel that with you, and with this place. I guess I was a little harsh before...” Klark trailed. “What was she like?”

“What was who like?” Leksa questioned, having momentarily lost focus in the genuineness of Klark’s demeanour.

Klark smirked again, her eyes twinkling devilishly. “The girl who went missing? Your _girlfriend_? Klark?” She prodded, hoping to get more information on the person she was to eventually impersonate.

“ _Oh_...” leksa nervously chuckled. “Um no we weren’t... no.... nothing like that!” She stuttered. Clearly stuttering was becoming a common thing for her now.

Klark’s eyes went wide, perfectly feigning embarrassment. “Oh! Sorry to... assume... wow. That was silly of me” she averted her gaze to the ground.

“No! It’s fine!” Leksa instantly insisted. “Please... um... she was incredible. She was beautiful, even at such a young age. She was smart, smarter than anyone our age, she was reckless and had a knack for doing things no one would ever think of doing. She made me do things I never would have alone”. Inadvertently, Leksa’s right hand shifted to hold her left wrist, where her little tattooed ‘K’ was situated.

As Leksa continued, Klark tried to listen intently, listening for anything she could use to help her, but there was constant gnawing and uncomfortable feeling in her gut. Something just didn’t sit right anymore, like her body was about to combust with release, but release of what? “She was... the light in my universe of darkness. I uh... didn’t know it then but, I loved her. You only get one, like one real one. I’ve had relationships in the past but it always comes back to her. It will always be Klark.” Klark shook her head, feeling dishevelled with the overload of information which was affecting her in so many unexplainable ways.

It was as though there was a mental switch in her brain just begging to be flipped, screaming to be flipped. It must have been something she ate. But it wasn’t, because with each second more she spent infront of Leksa, a picture which was first murky and unclear, was now becoming more visible. Like a veil was slowly being lifted out infront of her which had been obstructing her view of the truth the entire time.

Quickly as they came, Klark shook those thoughts and feelings away. “Sounds like you really loved her. For what it’s worth... I’m sorry. I can’t imagine how hard it must be.”

“I think you just might...” Leksa murmured, “So what about you? I saw you the other day with a woman.” Leksa nudged, trying not to let any jealousy or hurt drip through her tone.

Klark chuckled genuinely, possibly for the first time since she could remember. “What about her?” She asked, raising her eyebrows.

“Well I’m not expert, but isn’t there a code among women where if one shares their love life, the other must too?” Leksa smirked.

“Okay, _Heda_ , you win” Klark conceded, and somehow, the word ‘Heda’ had never sounded so sweet to Leksa’s ears before. “She’s... she’s Niylah. She was there for me when I needed someone and I care for her... but the way you explained Klark, I dont know if I feel that with Niylah” Klark spoke, shocking herself with her surprising honesty.

Leksa almost exploded with relief at the confession, her heart having well and truly been beat around recently, it was good to feel some kind of relief. Before Leksa could continue their conversation and relish in being in the company of Klark again, having a normal conversation like she had always dreamt of, a rush of guards swarmed the city square.

“Heda!” A large man huffed, having only just noticed his interruption. “Apologies for the intrusion”

“What is it?” Leksa demanded, more so than asked.

“Those men... who were declared missing... we found their bodies washed up in the river” The man blurted in another huff.

If Leksa wasn’t focused on the man before her and what he had just said, she would have noticed Klark’s wide eyes and almost surprised look. “I apologise, I have to cut our conversation short” Leksa spoke before Klark could begin to think about making a hasty getaway. She turned to her guards and signalled. “ _Goh_. _Hos op!_ ” Leksa and her guards had filed out of the village square before Klark could even consider her next move.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! The feedback on last chapter was incredible. I’ve read your comments... I am still planning things as I go and I think the addition of some suggested characters will be great! I just can’t put them all in one chapter, that’s too much and not really good character building! But believe me I’m trying to include all of your suggestions. I hope that those Anya fan favourites liked her introduction this chapter. I’d also like to point out that there is a wide age difference between Anya and Leksa, so while Leksa is 21 now, Anya is well into her thirties, just to clear any confusion up.
> 
> Also, I’ve noticed some of you might not be familiar with the psychological aspect of what is happening to Klark. If that’s the case, google; ‘Memory suppression and dissasociation psychology’. I did a month of reading before I started this fiction, I apologise if any of it has been incorrect to those psychology buffs, but googling that should give you better understandings!
> 
> I’m trying to move the fiction along so I apologise if it seems to be rushed this chapter, there’s just so many open plots that will all tie in together at the end of the first half of this fiction.
> 
> Keep up the feedback and love, it brightens my day! Also please let me know if there’s any concepts you want me to talk about! Like I’ve done Natblida’s, Beca Pramheda, the deformed children, tattoo meanings! Let me know!   
> Until next time x 
> 
> P.S. I had a minor slip up last chapter on a point I’ve addressed in this, so I changed a sentence in the last chapter! Hopefully it’s not too noticeable! 
> 
> Goh. Hos op! ~ Go. Hurry up!


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klark awoke like a bolt of lightning, her breathing erratic and her heart rate like a jack hammer. Sweat was dripping from every crevice and pore on her body, even though the temperature outside was chilly. Her skin felt like a glacier to the touch, even though her body was contradictorily flushed.
> 
> Her lips tingled, presumably from the kiss she remembered at the end of whatever that just was.

So things hadn’t gone exactly to plan. No one was meant to find those bodies out in the woods, but now everyone knew, particularly with the massive stink the guards made in the market square. If word got back to Azgeda, it would only make it more likely that Nia would ride in early to Polis, and Klark couldn’t have that, not with the progress she was making with the Commander, all for the mission of course.

The only thing left she could do was to sneak back into the woods and relocate her hidden weapons to somewhere not near where the bodies were found. The bloodhounds would definitely sniff a trail to their temporary burial. It was a necessary action, also considering her weapons were marked in a such a way that was recognisable as _Wanheda_.

Two years ago during an attack, Klark was badly injured due to a collapsed roof, and she lost a dagger from her belt clip. It was later discovered that the dagger was retrieved by the Trikru army and brought to the Commander. Since then, Klark had been careful not to leave traces behind on her missions. It was her only slip ever, but it was a monumental one.

Nia was none too pleased about the mistake, and Klark was lucky to be left breathing. It was a mistake she couldn’t make ever again. There’s no doubt that if her weapons were discovered, the Commander would know that Wanheda had infiltrated the capital, that, and the blood on the weapons were an easy identifier that it was in fact her responsible. Also the fact that Roan warned Leksa of a threat, it wouldn’t take an idiot to put three and three together.

If the Commander did discover Wanheda’s breach, then that was it for Klark. There would be no hope of recovery from it, and she would spend the rest of her life on the run, looking over her shoulder. Not that she hadn’t already been looking over her shoulder, but at least she hadn’t been running. At least she was guaranteed another day if she satisfied Nia, but if things went downhill, that was no longer a luxury.

Guards were situated everywhere throughout the woods. Since the bodies discovery, the Commander had vamped up city defence even more. Twice as many guards were posted at each entrance to the capital, twice as many archers were situated throughout the high rises, and twice as many scouts hidden in the woods. The Commander had even invested in Skaikru guards with automatic weapon. It was a complete cluster. Klark’s concern wasnt exactly bumping into any guards or scouts in the woods, however, it was more what she would do _if_ she did.

The idea was to be inconspicuous, get in and out quick as possible without being seen or leaving a trace. If any guards spotted her, there would just be even more bodies in her trail, and that was the last thing she needed. The Commander would be almost untouchable if any other bodies were discovered, good thing that Klark had an advantage, still, it wasn’t a risk she was willing to take.

Klark manoeuvred her way through the woods with accuracy and speed. After all those years, the woman was practically dancing on her toes, not a single sound was made in her motion, not even a broken twig. The ravine leading to the river where the bodies were found was swarmed by guards, making it nearly impossible to reach her weapons without being spotted.

She’d have to cause a distraction, and an easy distraction it would be. Each year, hundreds of people went missing in the woods alone, and the bodies of many of them were never recovered. Just like the humans born with deformities, _Frikdreina_ , animals were also affected in similar ways. The most known of those were _Snaiks_ , mutated water snakes which stretched over thirty feet on average, and had an opening for a head that was full of razor sharp barns and fangs.

Then there was _Pauna_ , a mutated gorilla which stood at fifteen feet, almost three times the size of what Gorilla’s used to be, who would tear her victims limb from limb then eat the remains. Pauna was the ultimate predator, and no one had been known to survive an attack.

There were other discovered mutations in animals, such as multiple or few limbs, and luminescent abilities, neither of which could cause a distraction quite like Pauna. Klark knew the ape roamed the woods near here where the National Zoo once stood, and knew the ape was responsible for all those disappearances, she’d seen it with her own eyes, at least she thought she had, she just couldn’t remember when. It was more like a short recording playing on loop in her mind, possibly a dream. All she needed to do was get Pauna’s attention and direct her to the guards. Any deaths would be written off as a Pauna attack, completely unfortunate.

Klark kept low, lathering herself in moss and mud to block out her scent. It was believed that Pauna had evolved to identify living organisms through thermal radiation. At least everything on earth emitted some kind of radiation, but with the mud and moss, she could disguise her thermal emissions to some degree. This also helped mask her sweaty, human scent from Pauna aswell.

All was quiet for a few short moments once Klark reached the National Zoo, until Pauna came crashing down to the concrete below, nose flaring and chest huffing. Carefully, Klark backed away to the edge of the enclosure, careful to remain steady and silent, she picked up a large rock. She through it in the direction of Pauna, grazing the beasts leg as only to aggravate her.

Pauna let out a wild roar, her mighty teeth dropping with salvia and her moist breath warming the chilled air around her. She dropped on all fours and pulled herself out of the enclosure, following the sounds Klark had been creating in her hasty escape, because to hell with silence when there’s a fifteen foot Gorilla chasing you.

Klark was a fast runner, she had speed, agility and endurance. But this had to of been a new kind of speed. The adrenaline coursing through her veins lit every nerve ending like a match against a box. Her body was on fire and screaming for oxygen, her limbs were moving faster, working harder than she could comprehend. Her heart felt like it was going to explode and the air tasted like a metallic acid in her throat.

Drops of rain began drizzling down, causing the wood to slip and side underneath Klark’s rapidly moving feet, and the rain itself had an eery sting to her skin and left smallish red marks. It was probably just the adrenaline though and lack of oxygen causing her skin to sensitise. It didn’t take long until Klark was mentally cursing herself for such a bad idea. While she was the fastest she had ever been, Pauna was faster.

The gorilla was mere metres within reach before Klark dove sharply to her left. With Pauna’s peripheral sight almost non-existent, she kept on running, roaring at the empty space infront of her which was soon occupied by the unexpected and frightened guards.

Their shrieks and screams made Klark shiver through her core. She never really felt guilt or sympathy for any victims of hers, or victims she had a role in, but when it came to Pauna, she definitely did. Her apparent dream or memory of what the beast could do was graphically terrifying, and she wished it upon no one, not even Nia herself.

While the guards were being brutally taken care of, Klark found her weapons, still safe and sound where she had left them. On her way back, her mind completely blank from the imagined horrors those men must have endured from the wrath of Pauna, Klark came across a fallen log.

It was a very distinct log because running along the top centre of it from end to end was a split. In that exact moment, an image flashed before her eyes, two young girls, one brunette and one blonde, situated by the log. The brunette was slumped over as though she was somehow hurt, while the blonde was holding her as though trying to help. Their bodies were clear, but their faces were obscured, like an unfocused and blurred picture that cameras used to take.

As quickly as it came, the image vanished. Klark summed it up to a hallucination from all the adrenaline still rushing through her, but the reality was, the adrenaline was long drained from her system. She sat by the log, fiddling with her weapons, pondering whether or not all the graphic and traumatic things she had seen in her life had slowly been taking its toll on her.

She definitely felt as if she had been going insane lately, but now more than ever. Klark sat there, for a better part of an hour, gathering herself and her thoughts. She got up to leave but something caught her eye on the underside of the log.

There, in jagged, carved writing, it read ‘ _tou trep_ ’ - L.K’, which translated to ‘ _the trip_ ’. She silently chuckled to herself, imagining how many people must’ve actually tripped over this log at some point or another. It was barely even noticeable until you were right next to it. She made it out of the woods and back to her hut still quietly chuckling at the little, messy engraving, while subconsciously scratching at the blooming, stinging red marks on her exposed skin.

* * *

 

Since the rise of the very first Commander a little over a century ago, and every Commander after, for as brief as their reign was, they were guided by a _Fleimkepa_. It was the Fleimkepa’s job to train the collective younger natblida’s from their welcoming to the tower, until their conclave. While Anya was Leksa’s personal mentor and trainer, Titus’ role was to prepare Leksa, among the other natblida’s to be Heda.

During the period between the last Commander’s death, and the new Commander’s ascension, Titus would then protect the flame for the conclave’s victor. Then, when Leksa ascended to the throne, Titus then took the role as Leksa’s advisory.

It was not in the nature for any Commander to be ordered by their fleimkepa, but rather to listen. Titus had served many Commander’s before Leksa’s reign, and Leksa throughout hers. The man was wise, and protected each Commander he served with a ferocity like no other. In a way, he was a fatherly figure, particularly for Leksa when she came to live at the tower after the last of her family had been murdered.

Leksa trusted in his advice and in him, but lately she had been growing weary of it.

“I don’t want to hear it Titus!” Leksa yelled.

The older man sighed, trying to remain poised and respectful. “Those bodies were discovered less than a mile downstream from where your friend was found. Don’t tell me that it is coincidence.”

Leksa’s eyes darkened and her jaw clenched. “I trust her Titus. And as _your_ Heda, _you_ should trust in me.”

“I do...” Titus conceded sincerely, “I will always trust in _you_ Heda, but I don’t trust _her_ ”.

Leksa shook her head in anger. “If you don’t trust her, then you don’t trust me”

“Please, Heda... the bodies, her arrival, she was even spotted with the Azgeda prince, aswell as wandering the woods alone during the Pauna attack. The only common denominator in all of this is her. Are you positive that this is your Klark?”

The vein in Leksa’s neck was prominent, and the girl was seething with anger. If Leksa was honest though, she wasn’t sure of anything revolving around Klark anymore. Titus’s words were not false, Leksa had even spotted Klark with Prince Roan. But there was still a flame inside her which continued to burn bright and strong for the girl she knew Klark was, for the girl she knew was trapped inside in her own mind.

A loud knock on the door intruded between Leksa and Titus’s conversation. Anya walked into Leksa’s quarters a moment later with a few members of Skaikru who Leksa recognised to be Monty, Raven, and the Skaikru Ambassador Kane.

“Anya, Ambassador Kane, this is a surprise. What can I do for you?” Leksa spoke, genuinely interested and thankful for an intrusion.

The quiet and reserved boy, Monty, spoke up, looking incredibly pale. “Commander, we have some information I think you would like to hear”.

* * *

_“Klaaarrrkkkkkk! Give me back my jwacket!” A small brunette girl moaned, watching her blonde friend parade around.  
_

_The blonde jumped around, giddy and giggling, holding her arms out on a horizontal as if imitating what an aircraft used to be. “Wook Weksa! I can fwy!” The blonde yelled._

_The brunette stomped her foot and scrunched her face in an adorable pout, crossing her arms over her small body. With her little, emerald eyes, burning a thousand fires, she screamed at the top of her lungs. “GIVE ME MY JWACKET!”_

_The blonde stopped all manner of movement, her lower lip quivering as her deep blue eyes shone with a few unshed tears. She scuffed her way over to the grumpy brunette, lower lip still quivering. She stood a few feet from the small inferno and removed the jacket._

_Suddenly, all manner of sadness washed from her face, replaced with a toothy grin, she blonde said, “Catch me, Weksa! I’m Fwying!” And dove into her best friend’s outstretched arms._

_*****_

_“Leksa stop! You smell like fish!” The blonde screeched._

_“You are a fish!” The brunette retorted._

_The small blonde pouted. “Am not!” She whined._

_The small brunette couldn’t remove the smile from her face, and she released a hearty laugh. “You pout like one!”_

_The blonde’s warm, blue eyes turned dark and stormy in a matter of moments. “Do. Not!” She punctuated, and lunged at her friend, effectively tackling her into the shallow stream._

_She sat over the top of her friend, pinning her to the sand while the brunette looked frantically around. “Klark! You made me drop my fish!”_

_The blonde felt a pang of regret the moment she heard those words. For hours Leksa had been trying to catch a fish in the river. Sometimes she would come so close, only to lose the fish at the last second, or her make-shift rod would break at the last second. It was the first fish she had caught her entire life, and the girl was beyond stoked._

_The blonde’s eyes were downcast as she realised the depth of her screw up. The brunette was looking up at her expectantly, almost as if silently telling the blonde to go catch her another fish. “You’ve got me.... I’ll be your fish” the blonde murmured, while giving her most fishy like pout._

_Hard expressions turned soft on the brunettes face and her lips pulled into the sweetest smile, like only she could. The blonde’s heart warmed at the sight of her best friend happy again. The brunette leaned up and kissed the tip of the other girl’s nose, like only she could._

_****_

_"Come on, Leksa! I have your present!" A small bolt of blonde came rushing into the room._

_The brunette snapped open her forest green eyes, meeting the cerulean pools of her best friend "But you are my present, Klark. Everyday I see you is a present" the brunette spoke, without a trace of sarcasm._

_The smile on the blonde’s face could light a thousand universes. The brunette quickly pecked the blonde’s adorable, little nose, it having become a show of affection, and wrapped her arms securely around her best friend._

_After a few minutes, the brunette was fast asleep, snoring lightly while the blonde kept her eyes strained on each flawless feature of the girl before her. “Leksa?” She whispered, “are you awake?”_

_No response came from the brunette, still cocooned in a blissful sleep. “Thankyou, Leksa” the blonde continued to whisper, “Thankyou for being you. I... I lov... happy birthday, Leksa”. The blonde concluded, leaning in to place a soft kiss on the brunettes lips._

  
Klark awoke like a bolt of lightning, her breathing erratic and her heart rate like a jack hammer. Sweat was dripping from every crevice and pore on her body, even though the temperature outside was chilly. Her skin felt like a glacier to the touch, even though her body was contradictorily flushed.

Her lips tingled, presumably from the kiss she remembered at the end of whatever that just was. She brushed over her lips with her thumb and fore finger, her whole body having come to tingle now with an unexplainable warmth of euphoria.

What was that? A dream? It felt too real to be a dream, like she had lived in those moments. And those little girls, they were the _exact_ same girls she saw by the fallen log in the woods, and they looked so familiar, almost as if one of them was herself.

But how could that even be possible? It just had to of been one of those really strange dreams that people have which leaves them baffled, and then they just can’t explain it. Part of Klark believed it was just a dream, a really whack dream she had only because of all the things she had been discussing with Leksa. She had been playing over what the Commander had said, she may have only been dreaming about it because it was at the very front of her mind, the very crux of her conscious thought.

But an even bigger part of her believed that it was real, an even bigger part of her knew it was real and it scared her to death. All these years living a lie, a life of servitude and abuse, but _how_? How did it happen? How could Leksa have let that happen if any of what just happened were true.

It was as though her subconscious thought was finally breaking through. All these years it had been filling and filling, like a cup filling with water, but eventually it will overflow. Now, her subconscious was like that cup, overflowing bit by bit, piece by piece. It could definitely explain why at first it was only familiar feelings, sounds, smells and sights, and now it was actual memories and chunks of her life being brought back to her.

No, she had a mission. She had to stay focused on her mission no matter what. Nothing would get between her and her freedom, she had spent too long waiting for a moment such as this, and she definitely wasn’t about to throw it away over her dreams. She had to stick to the plan, kill the Commander. It would all be over then, she would be free.

She had to do this for herself, and for Roan aswell. The man risked his life for Klark when he owed her nothing, something that monumental can’t go unchecked. She owed it to him, but more importantly, herself, she deserved this.

This was just a trickery of the mind, her better instincts telling her she had to be careful around the Commander. The Commander probably already knew who she was, and instead it was her who had infiltrated Wanheda, not the other way around. Perhaps the greatest deceptor in all of the coalition was finally being decepted herself. At least, that’s what Klark told herself, but convince, she did not.

* * *

Despite her previous decisions, Leksa was at breaking point. Losing Klark was one thing, but having the girl parade about Polis, day in day out still without any clue as to who she was, was pushing leksa off the edge.

Leksa had half a mind to take Klark to Abi, but with the condition Abi was in last time Leksa visited, she didn’t think Abi could handle her daughter being physically alive and home, yet not mentally home. Klark was a very lost soul and confused soul, and there was only a few things Leksa _could_ do.

She tried to remain reserved and patient, but there was nothing coming from the girl which indicated any kind of recognition, and Leksa was becoming impatient. There was no progression what so ever, so Leksa decided indefinitely that she had to take a more forceful approach into the equation.

A lesson she learned when interrogating people was that everyone had their breaking point, and if you apply just enough pressure, the object will eventually break. She didn’t want to hurt Klark, or break her like that, but the truth was and will always be the best choice from Leksa’s point of view. The truth will set a person free, and it will set Klark free from herself.

Leaving Klark alone in the dark like that would be unfair, at least if Leksa was able to help her remember, Klark would be able to make her own decision on whether or not she wants to accept the truth, or run from it.

It didn’t help that past few days Klark had been avoiding her like the plague, yet again. Since her last meeting with Titus, Leksa only wanted to find Klark and question her even more so. But, something must have happened somewhere during the time Leksa saw her last. She believed Klark consciously knew something, but whatever it was, she was scared to death to tell anyone. But every time Leksa came close, the girl kept vanishing into thin air, and Leksa couldn’t put the pieces together.

Perhaps Titus had been indeed right and Leksa’s trust in Klark had been misplaced all along. It was hard to initially have that thought process, but slowly, Leksa was leaning more towards believing it, rather than defending Klark. Perhaps Klark truly did die all those years ago, and all that was left was a reflection of the girl Leksa loved.

It wasn’t just speculation that Titus had approached Leksa with, some guards had even verified his story about Klark in the woods the day of the Pauna attack. The only truth in everything so far has been Titus. Leksa didn’t know if she could even trust a word Klark said anymore.

It didn’t mean that it hadn’t increased Leksa’s curiosity more as to what Klark was hiding. Surely Klark could trust Leksa though, Leksa has been nothing but open and friendly. It must have been one hell of a secret if Klark still wandered about innocently like nothing was suspicious.

But Leksa, as stubborn as she was, wasn’t about to lose all hope without one last fight. She would come down on Klark, put her on the spot, make her feels pressured and uncomfortable, and Leksa would watch her very closely for anything that resembled anything remotely close to the girl she used to be. It was a lot of faith to put into something so small, but in the end, Klark was worth it.

Leksa had found Klark by the river, holding a makeshift rod trying to catch some fish. Leksa was reminded of all the times her and Klark played in this river, particularly the very first time she caught a fish, it was perhaps one of her most treasured memories.

“I’m glad you’re okay” Leksa called as she approached Klark.

Klark jumped a little, and turned on foot, somewhat startled. “You heard? Thanks” she murmured, to Leksa’s responding nod.

“I know where everyone goes in the capital, particularly when there‘s a beast on the loose” Leksa chuckled, releasing some tension from the air.

“What was that thing? I’ve heard stories, but never expected them to be real?” Klark questioned, feigning surprise.

Leksa flinched, her years of training picking up on Klark’s pitched voice. “You were lucky to make it out, many people did not. Her name is Pauna” Leksa clarified, eyes strained on Klark, knowing full well that her and Klark had once seen Pauna in the flesh attack over a dozen warriors when they were children.

“ _Her_?” Klark asked incredulously, facade not wavering. Perhaps there was nothing to waver, or Klark was just very good at hiding.

“Yes. You’ve heard of the Frikdreina right?” Leksa asked, referring to the humans born with deformities

Klark raised her brows. “Everyone has, Leksa” she chuckled.

“Well... Pauna is the same, just instead of human, she’s an ape” Klark nodded along with Leksa, nothing in her appearance seeming to drop. Leksa had to get to her point, and fast.

“Look, I didn’t come here for a friendly chat... what were you really doing in the woods?” Leksa asked, sternly.

Klark looked a little taken back by the change of atmosphere. Her mind blacked for a moment as the memory flooded back into her mind. She now saw those green eyes of the young brunette so clearly, and those same eyes, staring back at her in the form of a much older and taller brunette. “ _Klark_?” Leksa prodded, irritated.

“Yes” Klark cleared her throat. “I was just having a walk in the woods.”

Leksa stiffened, easily detecting the lie, and not at all missing the first time Klark had actually responded to her name. “Klark...” she tested, “I have been patient. But _don’t_ lie to me. I always could tell when you were.”

“I’m _not_ lieing, and for the last time, I’m _not_ your friend” Klark protest, now coming face to face with the stoic brunette.

Leksa barely flinched at Klark’s venom laced tone. “Your eyes flutter every time you lie. Hers did that too. You may not be the girl I used to know... the girl I... loved. But she’s in there somewhere and—“

“ _Enough_!” Klark roared. “I dont know what kind of delusion you’re going through right now but you _really_ need to stop.” Klark yelled, as her hands followed in violent action, giving leksa a perfect view of the small ‘L’ on her inner wrist.

The brunette smirked to herself, because if only Klark knew.... “If you’re not klark then how do I know you have a birthmark above your hip? How do I know you have a very small ‘ _L_ ’ tattooed  on your inner wrist?” Klark visibly shifted, covering up her wrist and dropping her eyes to the ground, “I’ll tell, because on your fifth birthday you wanted to do something special. So you suggested we mark ourselves with each other’s initials, that way we’d always be with each other no matter what. Tell me you don’t remember that, and I’ll walk away.” Leksa concluded in a huff, holding out her left wrist for Klark to see.

Klark tried, she really tried not to remember, but the second Leksa stoped yelling, Klark’s vision was engulfed with another image, this time completely clear. The little brunette with piercing green eyes had her face scrunched up in pain while a the small blonde was holding a make shift tattoo pin. The image was so clear that Klark could practically see the letter being inked into the brunettes tiny wrist.

“ _Stop_!” The words came bellowing out of Klark before she knew what was happening. “Just go! Leave me alone! Your friend is gone, Leksa! I AM NOT YOUR FRIEND, YOUR FRIEND IS _DEAD_.”

Leksa stood there, holding an intense stare into what used to be her favourite view, Klark’s cerulean pools. She gave one last squint of her eyes before she turned on foot and walked away, not so much as another word or look over her shoulder. Perhaps Klark really was gone for good now, but this time, it didn’t hurt as much as the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case it was hard to read, the italics were a dream, and the asterisk (*) were the dream scene rolling into the next! I just didn’t know how to describe it! Basically they’re all memories but within a sequence in dream Klark was having! 
> 
> Also with the dreams, please don’t take the last bit out of context. It was sweet, harmless and only showed the depth of love between the girls. 
> 
> Some of you have asked about prompts and other fictions. I haven’t taken any fan prompts (perhaps I should invest in a twitter account to do so), but I’m more than happy too. I do currently have a prompt I’m working on for a super Sci-Fi Supergirl fiction! It sounds kickass so if you like Supergirl, I think you’ll love the prompt! Let me know if you would be interested in the reading the prompt!
> 
> I do hope you picked up on my first mention of acid rain, and keep an eye out for next chapter! I’ve got a big ol’ bombshell in that one I think you guys will love! (Hopefully). We’re only a couple chapters away from Praimfaya!
> 
> I’m honestly love the enthusiasm from a lot of you aswell of the comments! It really makes me so happy to know that I’ve made you guys happy.  
> Anyway, hope you enjoyed this chapter readers! As always, send me ideas, critique and feedback! Until next time xx


	8. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klark had questions, and needed answers. Some things still weren’t clear, they were patchy and unfocused, and there was still a minute part of her that fought against her memories. There was still a part of her that saw the tiniest bit of untruth in it all, but maybe Leksa was what she needed all along, a reassurance of the truth. Leksa, was the only person Klark could trust to tell her the truth.

_“Leksa.... help”._

****

 _Her_ husky voice echoed through Leksa’s mind like sound waves bouncing off the walls of a cube, just a constant back and fourth, back and fourth. This was the twenty eighth night Leksa had been awoken by the same nightmare. The twenty eighth night that Leksa had seen Klark in her dreams, except it didn’t look like Klark, she was covered in blood and burn marks adorned every inch of her milky skin. It was the twenty eighth night that Leksa had been haunted by that dream.

Thirty days it had been since Leksa last saw Klark, after Klark told her that ‘Klark’ was dead. _Never_ had Leksa accepted defeat before, not even as a child, but this time she had, Leksa had given up. There was nothing left to fight for with Klark. Leksa had tried time and time again to help Klark remember, but the girl simply didn’t want to. You can’t save someone who doesn’t want to be saved.

Leksa questioned whether it had been a mistake to confront Klark, whether she should of just left it, and left Klark on her own. It was a lot to dump on a person without explanation. Leksa surely wouldn’t have been as patient. If someone came up to her trying to convince her of this whole other life she had, she’d probably fix them with a glare before having them carted off in chains. But what was Leksa to do now? Klark had asked her to go, no, Klark had _told_ her to go.

She was the Commander of the coalition, one of the most feared and protected person in all the land, the Commander didn’t take orders from anyone, yet all these years later, a beautiful blonde with big cerulean eyes was still able to boss her around. And as painful as it was, Leksa listened. Years ago, she would’ve walked through the fires of hell for Klark if the girl had asked, and she still found herself ready to do so. It was Klark, it was _always_ Klark.

But, Klark didn’t want her, didn’t want to know her, hear her or see her. While Leksa remained strong during the moment, now, it was heart breaking to her. After all those years she spent searching for Klark, only to see the girl alive and well, and not wanting to know her, it was the worst pain Leksa had ever experienced. More so than losing Klark in the first place.

Some say the pain of a broken heart is worse than any imaginable physical pain, Leksa was beginning to understand what that pain felt like. She had spent her entire life searching for a disappointment, and disappointed she was.

So, thirty days had passed and Leksa hadn’t seen Klark once. She was sure that Klark had actually left the capital, there was just no trace of the girl, not even where Leksa knew she was staying. Her scouts could no longer see her, much less track her. Klark may have never even been real if it weren’t for Leksa’s memories staying intact, that’s how it felt.

But her departure from Klark meant the arrival of her nightmare, and Leksa couldn’t shake the feeling that this was a warning, that while the Commanders before her had been silent in meditation, perhaps they were sending a different kind of message, and it certainly spiked Leksa’s attention.

As she sat upright in bed, her mind still swirling with Klark’s burnt and bloody face, she instead focused back on what the Skai people had informed her of over a month ago.

The earth was dying, _again_. With skaikru technology, combined with the mountain’s, they were now able to pin point the cause of the acid rain. It went back to the old nuclear power plants before the first praimfaya wave. An analysis concluded that radioactive isotopes were still decaying inside the power plants which still stood, and that the radiation decay had been slowly reaching critical for the past century.

It had been happening more frequently now than not and the effects of the radiation had slowly been more frequent aswell. At first it was just an acidic smell in the atmosphere, which hardly anyone noticed. Then it was the light stinging during humid and sweaty days, and then came the rain. Now people by the dozen were being brought to healers across the coalition. Five people this week had been brought to the capital for help, only two of them left alive.

During the Pauna attack over a month ago, the light drizzle that swept over the earth left marks upon the people outside, burn marks. That was the first sign of the acid rain, the third stage. At first Leksa wondered if anyone from the mountain had survived and was creating something similar to acid fog, but Skaikru quickly disposed of that theory.

A month ago, they didn’t know exactly what was causing the ‘acid rain’, only that each week, more and more people were getting sick, and more of those sick people were dying. It effected each person differently, some would show no signs of the supposed ‘radiation’, others would have small, reddish marks on their skin which healed quickly, others had entire limbs infected, and others died within days.

Skaikru doctors had posed a theory that perhaps it was genetics and natural selection. The people on earth had survived the remaining radiation from the first wave through natural selection, but perhaps when it rained from higher up in the atmosphere, the radiation was more concentrated, or perhaps the radiation levels were simply fluctuating and the weaker people were being picked off.

It was a solid theory, but it couldn’t explain why the acid rain was only affecting people _now_ after over a hundred years. It also couldn’t explain why most of the deaths due to exposure had been those with normal blood, and those who cured quicker were nightbloods.

Stories had told of acid that fell from the sky shortly before the first praimfaya wave, aswell as the few inhabitable years after praimfaya. Again, many people believed that this was the work of the very first Commander, Beca Pramheda, ridding the earth once again from its population.

What frightened Leksa the most was that during her meditations, she still couldn’t see anything. Usually when she was lost or confused, she would mediate and contact her past Commander’s within the flame, and they would be there. Now however, they were silent.

If this was truly a sign that Beca Pramheda was taking back the earth and there would be another praimfaya wave, Leksa wasn’t sure anyone or anything would survive it this time. The human race was lucky the first time, and their technology and infrastructural advancements allowed them to survive praimfaya, and well afterwards. That was how Leksa and everyone came to be, the Praimfaya survivors were their ancestors.

Leksa wasn’t naive though, she knew that technology now compared to a hundred years ago was severely lacking.

But if Praimfaya hit again, Leksa had no confidence that humans would survive it. The grounders were survivors in their own right, but some things just aren’t meant to be survived. And if Beca was responsible for this, it was Leksa’s duty to understand that her past Commander may have a plan at work, and if it was Beca’s will, then it must be Leksa’s.

Up until two days ago, that’s what Leksa had chosen to believe, until Skaikru came back to the capital with new information, yet again. First, it was the smell, second the stinging, third, the acid rain, then finally, the atmosphere itself would slowly become toxic to anyone exposed for more than a couple minutes, similar to the effect of the atmosphere on the mountain men. But by that point, the second praimfaya wave would have already started. Still it was all speculation, Leksa thought, very convincing and provable speculation.

There was no legitimate certainty to it, no one could confirm such a devastation without actually doing an analysis at a decaying power plant, the second praimfaya wave may never even come. The radiation may dissipate over time and soon enough the acid rain would disappear too. While Leksa tried to remain positive, her gut told her that was a long shot. Only time would tell if Skaikru was correct in their new theory, but time was against them in this case. If radioactive elements were still decaying every half life, it wouldn’t be long before praimfaya was upon them. If Skaikru was correct, they may only have a handful of months.

Though, more people every week had been exhibiting radiation poisoning, mainly the elderly, but people all the same. The entire coalition was clueless, apart from Leksa herself, Anya, and a few Skai persons. Not even Titus knew of the new information.

Apparently, there were bunkers scattered across the land, it was just a matter of finding them, if they even existed, but if the public knew what was happening, there might not be anyone left to make it to the bunkers. Leksa knew it was immoral and against everything she felt not to warn her people of their potential impending doom. But such things could cause more chaos than calm, and there was strict protocol when dealing with events of such importance.

* * *

  
It started out as the little things, the sounds and the smells. Then it came to her in her sleep, her dreams, memories of her childhood. Then, it came to her in her wake. Everywhere she looked, she was reminded of the childhood she lost, the memories she lost and the people she lost.

Shortly after her spat with Leksa, Klark left the capital and instead stayed at one of the smaller villages on the outskirts of the capital, the same village she was taken from all those years ago. Klark didn’t know it at first, but bits and pieces came crashing back, flooding her mind.

She hoped after a month that it might stop, but it never did. Each day she was met with those forrest green eyes that were once her favourite, but this time, she knew they were her favourite. No longer were they unfamiliar anymore, because they belonged to the same person who had been trying to help her, _Leksa_. There was absolutely no denying it or burying it away. And what did Klark do? She pushed Leksa away.

This entire time, Klark realised, she had been pushing Leksa away instead of actually listening to what the woman had to say, instead of perhaps hearing the first bit of truth in years. Leksa had been nothing but gentle and kind at first, and even still, Klark played her and didn’t listen.

Klark had questions, and needed answers. Some things still weren’t clear, they were patchy and unfocused, and there was still a minute part of her that fought against her memories. There was still a part of her that saw the tiniest bit of untruth in it all, but maybe Leksa was what she needed all along, a reassurance of the truth. Leksa, was the only person Klark could trust to tell her the truth.

There was no real appropriate response to a bombshell such as this, finding out you were the childhood best friend of the Commander of the Thirteen clans, and that somewhere along the way, somehow you lost everything, everything that you had and everything that you were. Not even her own mind knew who she was.

Her life had been taken from her years ago, and Klark wanted nothing more than to know who she really was, and how she ended up where she did, where it all went wrong. There was only one person out there that could help her.

Sending Leksa off was the easy part, but finding her was much harder. Klark doubted that after a month Leksa might not want to even see her, let alone speak to her, still, she persisted on finding the Commander in her tower. It seemed as though the few appearances Leksa made out in open were only for Klark.

Getting into the tower was difficult since the guard count had been multiplied, but Klark succeeded by climbing the elevator shaft from an underground entrance that was rarely guarded with _awake_ and attentive guards during the night. The blonde made it to the second level from the top, the Commander’s private quarters.

There was an empty room to the right of the elevator, presumably where guests stayed. Klark climbed out the window and circled around the outside of the building to the room where she knew the Commander stayed.

Through the window, in the black of night, it’s there that she found Leksa by a desk looking over some parchments with mass scribbling, and it was then that for the first time, Klark truly saw the absolute beauty of the woman, and realised how lucky she must have been to have a relationship with this girl when she was a child, how lucky she was to have someone care so much about her when no one else did.

A lamp was situated on the desk and a soothing, yellowish glow illuminated the surroundings, and Leksa’s features so angelically. She looked tired and warn out, sporting a fading bruise on her tan but muscular shoulders which were marvellously displayed by the long, thinly, strapped, black nightgown. A slit along the side of the dress allowed Klark a gracious view of Leksa toned leg, peaking through the gap and draped underneath the chair.

Her hair was beautifully waved, and splayed over one shoulder as her head rested on her hand for support. Klark admired her body from afar in silence, her curves, her strength, her tattoos, but most of all her face, her beautifully exhausted features left her looking vulnerable, unlike the Commander Klark knew she could be.

A single step inside caused a reaction from Leksa faster than a death adder’s strike. The woman raised up from her chair, poised but graceful, her features now hardened and squared. Klark stepped further out from the shadows and into the dimly lit room so she was in complete view, and she watched as those marvellous forrest eyes softened, and all trace of defence washed away from Leksa’s body.

“How did you get in here?” A soft voice broke through the silence.

Klark looked shamefully down at her feet, refusing to meet those penetrating green eyes which were so desperate to meet hers. “I climbed the elevator shaft and went around the building. I need... your help”.

Leksa’s eyes widened slightly at Klark’s confession, presumably wondering how Klark slipped passed the guards that were meant to be on watch, much less climb an elevator shaft over thirty stories high, and even much less scale her way along the outside of the tower. Silence again rung through the air and when Klark looked up to see if Leksa had left, the woman was mere centimetres away, having ever so quietly approached Klark. “Are you okay?” A husked voice sounded, and Klark thought she had never heard so much concern and sincerity in a person’s voice her entire life.

She realised that this woman infront of her would do anything and everything for her. At the realisation, Klark could feel her tears welling, all her pent up emotions she’d been afraid to feel for a month were now coming to surface. She let a tear slide down her milky skin before brushing it away hastily. “I dont know, it’s like I can remember but I can’t. Every where I look now I see things and hear things.” Klark shook her head in embarrassment at her words and display of emotion.

Leksa tilted her head, adorably confused, which didn’t go unnoticed by Klark. “What do you mean?”.

The blonde let out a shaky breath. “Like... you say my name is Klark and it sounds familiar even, but... I just don’t know if it belonged to me. Everything looks so familiar like it’s déjà vu and I have all these memories, but I just don’t know if they’re mine and I can’t make sense of it all. I dont know if I’m going crazy or not, but I don’t know what to do. It’s just all too much.” The words poured out of her before she could stop herself, and the tears came streaming before she could stop them either.

Klark hung her head in her hands, sniffling, while Leksa gently touched her arm. “Do you remember me?” She asked.

Klark’s heart almost broke at the question and her tear filled blue eyes met Leksa’s. “Not in the way you want me to”.

Leksa nodded, seemingly not hurt or happy, just neutral about the answer. “Come with me in the morning, I want to take you somewhere, and there’s someone I want you to see. I’ve been waiting for the right time and there might not ever be one.”

The blonde looked confused at Leksa, wondering why on earth she had decided to help her instead of kick her out. “For now...” Leksa continued, squeezing Klark’s forearm in reassurance, “you should get some rest. Take my bed, I’ll take the guest room.”

Klark was taken back and her jaw slack at the Commanders offer. “How... _why_ are you helping me?” She stuttered.

Leksa gave a warm smile over her shoulder as her hand rested at the door. “Because, you would _never_ of given up on me, so as long you need me, I won’t give up on you.”

The blonde let her eyes trail down Leksa’s displayed back, admiring a tattoo she hadn’t seen before. In fact, she’d never seen this much of the Commander’s skin before. “Goodnight, Leksa” she called , before Leksa’s figure disappeared.

“Goodnight, Klark”.

* * *

Another sleepless night was spent by Leksa, this time not in her own bed. Klark had returned to her last night, something she wasn’t expecting, and her heart ached for its best friend. Klark looked an absolute mess, and Leksa could only hope that her reassurances were enough to put Klark’s confused and broken mind to rest for a night.

Leksa couldn’t even begin to imagine what Klark must be going through right now, but she promised herself that she wouldn’t give up on Klark again. It must’ve taken mass courage for Klark to come back, considering how they left things and now that she knew Klark had not been coping at all and it was all just a well payed facade, she was even more adamant in her help.

True to her word, Leksa returned to her quarters as the sun was rising. The blonde was already awake, out by the balcony looking over the city, and by the looks of it, she had a restless night aswell.

“It’s beautiful isn’t it?” Leksa asked, watching the sun rise over the hills as she stood beside Klark.

Klark relished in the feeling of the warmth across her skin, like it was the going to be the last time she’d ever experience a sun rise. “It is... I can’t thankyou enough for this”. She pressed.

For the first time that morning, Leksa met Klark’s gaze, like it was the first time in forever. She was glad to see the blonde no longer had puffy, red eyes or tear tracks down her face, nothing ever was, in Leksa’s opinion, worth as much as Klark’s tears, not even herself. “Come on, we’ve got somewhere to be”.

The two rode in silence out of Polis, Klark trailing closely behind Leksa, and Leksa looking back over her shoulder frequently to make sure Klark hadn’t disappeared. The feeling was incredibly nostalgic and brought warmth into Leksa’s heart for the first time in a long time.

Years ago she would race Klark out on these trails in the woods, of course not on stallions back then, but still. She was in the company of her best friend and that’s all that mattered, and it was all that mattered now.

It was the first time in years since Leksa had returned to the village which ruined her life. The upper parts had been rebuilt and re-inhabited by the people, a new village square had been built aswell, leaving the old one in ruins, which still carried the horrors of fifteen years ago.

“Why are we here?” Klark asked, recognising the abandoned village as the ruins of the new village she was staying at the past month.

Leksa turned her horse, now facing Klark in the very same village square that she had lost her all those years ago. “You said you have all these memories, but you can’t understand them. Would you like to?”

Klark nodded, silent and hanging on to every word Leksa spoke. “It happened here, right here where we are now. We were playing next to the fountain when they attacked.”

“Who?” Klark asked.

“Azgeda. We were six at the time... it was my birthday.” Klark looked empathetically at Leksa, nodding for her to continue. “We were playing when they invaded. Houses were set alight, the stable was set alight, everything went up in flames and all the villagers filled the town square, fleeing their homes.” Leksa spoke as if she were recounting the entire thing detail or detail in the flesh, “I lost you in the chaos and by the time I looked back, you were being taken. I screamed for you and I reached for you but... our mother’s pulled me away. The last thing I saw before I blacked out was you... you were gone and my mother was dead. An arrow through the heart.”

A single tear slid down Klark’s cheek. “I’m so sorry...”.

Leksa shook her head, “Don’t be. I’m not the only person that lost everything that day”, and Leksa gave Klark a knowing look. “It was one of many raids Azgeda did. We believe they were looking for nightbloods.”

Klark nodded. “I’ve had dreams about this place... I just never thought they were real” Klark murmured as her eyes trailed over every inch of what remained of the old village.

“It was...” Leksa trailed, “ _very_ real. Come, that’s not all I want to show you.”

Klark remained silent, watching as Leksa occasionally brought her sleeve to her face. Her mind was engulfed with a million things, like what Leksa must have been through watching two people she loved get taken from her, how she must of coped, or not coped throughout all those years.

It wasn’t until they had reached the last village on the outskirts of Tondc that she finally spoke up, having given Leksa all the solitude she could’ve. “What are we doing out here?”

The brunette didn’t answer, instead she hopped off her horse and began walking to an old shak. She stopped just short of the door, looking back for Klark to join her. The blonde stopped beside her, puzzlement evident across her face.

Leksa took a deep breath, seemingly gathering herself. “Last time I came here was just after I won my conclave. And I told the woman who lived here that I would not rest until I found her daughter.”

Klark’s orbs widened in understanding, Leksa had taken her to her mother. She was nervous to say the least. Since her flashbacks, a recurrent thought of hers had been her family. If there was any left, if she had seen them over the years and not recognised them, or if they had seen her and not recognised her.

She wondered what her parents looked like, if she looked similar to them. What they had been doing all these years if they were still alive, even if they had another child. She wondered all these things, questions she was finally about to get her answers to after years.

Leksa knocked lightly on the wood, and a slight shuffle was heard from inside. The sounds became louder as the person approached the door, their steps in time with Klark’s heart beat. The door swung open to reveal a thin and sickly pale woman.

They say people’s eyes are the window’s to their souls, but this woman’s eyes were empty and soulless like she loved and lost a lifetime. Her hair looked wirey and was greying out, her limbs were lanky and unhealthy like she hadn’t eaten in days, and wrinkles upon wrinkles adorned her face, like she’d never done anything except frown her entire life.

In other words, the woman was the most broken soul Klark had ever seen her entire life. It looked as though every second longer she lived was a chore, and that in itself was a tragedy. If Leksa hadn’t hinted that this was her mother, she would’ve wondered what could of possibly happened for someone to end up that way, or why Leksa would take her to such a place. The atmosphere was as dull and deathly as the surroundings. But who was Klark to judge, she had known hardship and what it could do to a person, she was just lucky she didn’t draw the short straw.

The woman looked at Leksa with a deflated and defeated look the second she saw the brunette. She had still not yet noticed Klark’s presence, until finally, she did. Her empty brown void’s locked onto Klark and a small twinkle sparked in her eyes. She looked long, long and hard while Klark stood there a statue, unsure of what to do.

She didn’t recognise the woman before her, not her name, her face, even her eyes which were so distinct from happiness, unlike any other Klark had seen. The woman’s hands began to shake and Klark wondered if it were old age, or if she had been doing it the whole time and Klark had been oblivious.

The woman looked back and fourth frantically between Leksa and Klark, a relieved smile forming while her brows shot to her hairline. Leksa smiled at the woman, nodding in silent confirmation. “I promised you I’d find her, Abi”.

 _Abi_. It was like a light switch flicked on inside Klark’s head, her vision tunneled and her mind flicked back to moments in her life, to memories of this woman, her mother, Abi. It was like she had all these files inside her head and all she needed was the access, one little password to unlock a vault of memories to last a lifetime.

Klark hadn’t noticed she’d been staring at the woman, she hadn’t noticed she began to mimic her shaking either, or mimic the tears coming from her eyes. “Mum?” Klark rasped, as her voice broke with emotion.

“Klark!” The woman exhaled in a sob, pulling Klark like a life line into her chest.

She couldn’t remember how long they stood there like that, wrapped in each other’s arms. It must have been a while because her legs were beginning to stiffen, still she didn’t move. It was the greatest feeling in the world, a feeling she didn’t know existed, a feeling she didn’t know she missed until now. In that moment, Klark felt like she was loved, for the first time in a life time she felt truly, _truly_ loved.  
  
She pulled her mother closer, too afraid to loosen her grip much less let go, and she buried her sobs into the crook of her mother’s neck. Ashy grey hair filled her mouth and tickled her nose, but it didn’t matter, none of it mattered.

Leksa quietly broke them apart after God knows how long, suggesting they should take the reunion back inside. The brunette turned to wait by her horse outside, leaving sone privacy for the mother and daughter, not before Klark could mouth a quick “Thankyou”.

Leksa watched as the duo entered Abi’s house, Klark cocooned in her mother’s arms like she used to be all those years ago, and she smiled, glad that she was finally able to make true both her promise to Abi, and Klark, glad that she had finally been able to free herself from the burden of guilt and regret, because Klark was _home_.

* * *

It must of been hours she spent in the shak, hours spent reuniting with her mother. Still it just wasn’t enough. She listened as Abi spoke about how they searched for her, how Abi eventually lost all hope to which the woman looked away shamefully.

She listened as Abi said no matter what happened, Leksa never lost faith that she was out there. She listened for hours on end about an entire life her mother had without her, how the nights were long and lonely hours, and the days were far longer lonely hours. She didn’t speak much, just listened, until Abi eventually asked her the million dollar question, what happened to her and where she was.

Klark blanked. What was she meant to of said? _“While you were living alone for fifteen depressing years, I was out murdering people with no memory you even existed”_. That was the furthest thing from what Klark wanted to say, no one in there right mind could ever admit to such a thing, so, Klark simply lied. She wasn’t ready to tell anyone the truth about what she had been doing and who she was, she didn’t think she’d ever be ready, or more like, the people who loved her would never be ready.

The way Leksa and her mother looked at her now, she knew they would never look at her the same if she told them the truth. All the love they held for her now would disappear in an instant if she told them the truth. She had only just gotten them back, gotten her life back even to some degree, and she wasn’t about to squander it away.

She would be banished, or worse, tried and killed, there was a bounty for anyone who caught Wanheda after all, and Klark’s penalty would be death. She had done too much and seen too much.  
Her mother would despise her, and Leksa would abandon her if they truly knew that Klark was _Wanheda_. Even if by some miracle, they did neither of those things and still stood by Klark if she told them, what was going to stop the hundreds of people and families upon families who’d want justice for what Wanheda had done. Even Leksa, as the Commander who served her people couldn’t protect Klark from that storm.

So, Klark packed on the lies, telling her mother that she was kept as a slave for labour, that she was beat and eventually, after a while, everything became a blur. She explained how at that point, it was only about surviving and that’s it, nothing else mattered. She couldn’t however explain the scars on body, how they looked more like scars from battle rather than those a slave would carry, or the way her reflexes almost gave herself away when within a second, she caught a mug Abi accidentally dropped.

But her mother was oblivious to it, too ecstatic to have her daughter back to pay much attention as to what Klark had been doing the past fifteen years, as to recognising her daughter, after just getting her back, was lying to her.

A knock came to the door as the sun was beginning to descend in the sky, and Klark realised that Leksa must have been waiting alone for hours outside, and she suddenly felt genuinely guilty, but it was no secret now that Leksa would wait forever for her.

“I’m sorry to intrude” Leksa peaked around the door, “but if we want to make it back to the capital before nightfall, we should leave now”.

* * *

The journey back to the capital was rode in silence again, but this time, Leksa took them along a different path to the one they came from. After a trail followed an incline for a solid mile or two, the forrest had opened out to a clearing on the edge of a cliff. There beyond them was a valley, the capital in it, and they stood overlooking the lands as the sun began to set behind the mountains.

“I have to admit, as selfish as I am, I had to have you to myself for a little bit before this day is through” Leksa smiled sheepishly. “Do you know where we are, Klark?”

Klark looked around, her face scrunched adorably and her lips in a pout as though she was thinking with all her might. “I think so. We came here, didn’t we?”

Leksa looked away, hiding her wide set grin. “We did. Klark...” Leksa exhaled rather sharply.

The blonde met the now serious but nervous gaze of the Commander, nodding to encourage Leksa to continue. “Last time we were here, I made a promise to myself, but you were taken before I could fulfill that promise. I’ve carried a lot of regrets these past years but I don’t want to regret not doing this.”

Leksa fidgeted unsurely with herself, before Klark took her hands in her own and squeezed them gently, her warmth becoming Leksa’s warmth, her hands becoming Leksa’s hands.

“Can I kiss you?” Leksa blurted out, and Klark’s eyes widened in surprise and a toothy grin formed on her face. “I’m sorry... it doesn’t have to mean anything I just... I don’t know what will happen and I can’t go my life without kissing you, at least once.” Leksa stammered.

Klark’s eyes softened as she remembered her dream, how she had so selfishly but so lovingly stolen a kiss from Leksa when they were kids, which Leksa seemed to have no clue of. Surely she could repay the favour somehow.

Her pink lips turned upwards into a small but gently smile, and she released Leksa’s hands, allowing the brunette to cradle her neck before leaning in and delivering her the tweetest taste of her life.

The feeling was electric, magnetic. It was pure bliss like she was riding a wave of ecstasy, like she was floating in the clouds, and Leksa’s lips were so soft and sweet that Klark prayed the girl never stopped kissing her. Unfortunately, Leksa pulled back, slightly pulling Klark’s lips within her own along the way.

Her giddy smile said it all and Leksa nervously shrugged away. “That certainly felt like it wasn’t your first kiss” Klark joked, lightening the mood a little, and not so subtly prompting Leksa.

Leksa moved to sit on some stones, gesturing for Klark to join her. “It didn’t seem like yours either” she smirked in return, her mind flicking back to the tall blonde she saw Klark with for a brief moment, “but I did have a girlfriend, once.”

“You _did_?” Klark reiterated.

“Yes, but I prefer not to talk about her.” Leksa frowned, “It was years ago when she was taken from me, but it still feels like yesterday that I could feel her touch.” Leksa ran her hand up her arm reminiscently.

“I’m sorry” Klark said apologetically.

“Why are you sorry?” Leksa turned to stare at Klark with a fierce passion. “Nia should be the sorry one” She scoffed, her hatred for Nia as transparent as a glass house, and it made Klark wonder what had actually happened and who this girl was.

“Can we just sit? And enjoy the sunset?” Leksa asked, after an awkward silence. “You don’t know how much I’ve missed this... missed you. I don’t want to waste a second more on something other than this.” Leksa spoke firmly, but Klark could read her queues like a book. The way Leksa’s eyes twitched and a small frown found perch, the way her voice cracked and she sounded slightly out of breath, even the way her posture was slumped and loose, not at all like the poised Commander she usually was.

Leksa was breaking on the inside and it occurred to Klark that Leksa was petrified that she’d leave again, or that she’d be taken. It occurred to her that perhaps she truly didn’t understand the depth of Leksa’s feelings toward her. But it also occurred to her that she may not ever be able to reciprocate those feelings.

Here she had a girl who would do anything for her, who had practically laid her heart out on her sleeve, and still, Klark was guarded, her walls still not budging. While Leksa had opened up to her, Klark still hid her lies behind a masked facade.

Slowly, her life had been returning to her, but nothing would be the same as it would of been before, _could_ of been before. Everything was different now, and no matter how hard either of them tried, or tried to ignore it, eventually it would catch up to them. And Klark couldn’t lie to Leksa, not anymore, at least, she didn’t want to.

Absentmindedly, Klark rubbed her wrist where the small tattooed ‘L’ was. Her mind was lost in a journey, a journey of ‘what if’s’. _What if_ it all turned to shit now that finally it was okay. _What if_ she lost Leksa again, having only just gotten her back. _What if_ she couldn’t survive that loss again. _What if_ leksa found out who she truly was.

_What if, what if, what if._

Leksa heard the quiet sniffling from the girl beside her. “What is it, Klark? What do you remember?” She stressed, equally as concerned about Klark as the girl was concerned and upset herself.

“I... remember it all. In fragments, but I remember it all. I remember... I loved you. Leksa I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry. I can’t lie to you... but I have to.” Klark wept, her mind overflowing with both lives she so desperately wanted to remove herself from, all the killing, all the pain, and all the suffering.

“Hey no, shhhh. It’s okay, you’re okay.” Leksa consoled, pulling Klark into her chest, trying to ignore the bit of anger that arose in her.

Klark pushed herself out of Leksa’s embrace, more forcefully than necessary. “No I’m _not_! I’m not who you want me to be! I’m not _your_ Klark anymore! I’m not the little girl I was! That life is long gone and the things I’ve done... you can’t even begin to understand what I’ve done, Leksa” Klark pushed herself up off the rocks and began to pace behind Leksa, conflicted in every conceivable way possible.

Leksa turned to face her friend. “You couldn’t possibly know what you were doing, Klark” She reminded sternly.

Klark stopped dead in her tracks, staring at Leksa fiercely. “God... Leks... but if you knew” she sighed, bringing her hand to wipe at her eyes.

“What? I’d think any less of you? Stop it.” Leksa pressed, standing to meet Klark.  
“I want you for who you are, not who you were or the things you’ve done. We’ve all made mistakes, Klark”.

Klark laughed mercilessly, because if only Leksa knew. “Not like this Leksa... I’m scared that you won’t feel the same if you knew. I’m scared you might leave me. I’m—“

“Hey!” Leksa clapped, gathering Klark’s attention. “You don’t need to confess to me. _You’re_ okay, _we’re_ okay. _Okay_?” She repeated, “All that matters is you’re home and that you’re safe.” She reached out to take Klark’s hands in her own, and to her surprise, Klark let her, not without a grumble though and a diss of her head.

“But I’m not... not anymore” Klark sobbed, seemingly so distant that she refused to hear anything Leksa said. “God, Leks, how did we lose so much time?”

“Klark...” Leksa sighed, squeezing the bridge of her nose, “You can’t carry the weight of a life that you _weren’t_ in control of, okay? Someone once told me that who we _are_ , and who we _need_ to be to survive are two very different people.”

After a moments silence, Klark smirked, “I wonder who said that” she husked, her grin back in full force.

“Oh, just someone stupid...” Leksa shook her head, “No, you wouldn’t know them” she feigned thought, causing Klark to laugh whole heartedly. The blonde had forgotten the affect that Leksa had on her, still all these years later.

  
“So...” Leksa continued, after Klark had calmed down considerably, “You loved me, huh?”

Klark met Leksa’s gaze, for long enough to see the brunette wink before she looked away in feigned disgust. “ _Seriously?!_ ” She scoffed, punching Leksa’s arm lightly.

“ _Ow!_ — What?” Leksa laughed humouresly, shrugging her shoulders in innocence.

“You know how I felt about you Leks... how I feel about you.” Klark corrected herself, in a more serious tone, “But I don’t know if I can be the person you want me to be.” She admitted.

Leksa smiled warmly, placing a soft, chaste kiss to Klark’s forehead, “I will love you no matter who you are or what you’ve done, Klark. It’s you, from the moment I first saw you, it has _always_ been you and it will _always_  be you. I didn’t spend my entire life searching for you to let you slip through my fingers now.” Leksa pressed, her emerald gaze burning into Klark’s cerulean.

“Your _entire_ life?” Klark mocked, a smirk plastered firmly on her face.

Leksa reiterated, “My _entire_ life. And now, we have all the time in the world.” She whispered sincerely, momentarily forgetting about their potential impending doom, Klark had that affect on her.

Klark settled her head on Leksa’s shoulder, and the brunette wrapped her arm around Klark’s waist, both of them lost in each other and completely oblivious to the movement in the shadows of the woods behind them.

* * *

**Twenty Years Ago**

_Very rarely did Nia venture into Polis, she usually had a messenger or ambassador constantly posted in the city. But as of two years ago, she frequented the city much more often. But this trip was special, because it was the first time her son, Roan, was joining her._

_While Roan thought he was going to watch the conclave, what Nia hadn’t told him was that Roan was going to meet one of its participants, Cormack of Azgeda, who happened to be Roan’s secret step father, and the father of Nia’s unborn child._

_Two years ago, Nia fell in love with the second man she had ever loved her entire life, the first was Roan’s biological father. Cormack was a big man, solid in his physical appearance, and calculating in his mental appearance, much like Nia. What most attracted Nia to him was his piercing green eyes and chunky black locks._

_It was a very rare thing to see someone of such appearance. The two spent six months together before it was discovered that Cormack, a fully grown man was a natblida. Back then, the laws against natblida’s were not as harsh as they were in present day. So Cormack was taken to the capital to train, instead of being killed. Before his departure, him and Nia wed in secret, both knowing full well that their chances of a proper future together were impossible._

_So they wed privately, as a confession of their love for one another. Nia would visit frequently trhough the next year and a half, but it wasn’t until her last visit that she left with more than just herself._

_Young Roan settled himself in the private balcony of the tower, allocated to officials watching the conclave, and Nia rushed to find her love._

_“What are you doing here? If you get caught...” Cormack trailed, his deep, husked voice like velvet to Nia’s existence._

_She smirked, nothing like her present day sinister smirk, “They won’t catch me... but I have to tell you something... it can’t wait. You need to be careful out there—”_

_“I will. I fight for you remember?” Cormack interjected._

_Nia smiled a soft smile, her heart rate picking up slightly, preparing herself for what she was about to say. “You won’t just be fighting for me...”_

_Cormack’s forrest Eyes flickered with confusement for the briefest of moments. “Roan? Of course, I fight for him aswell”._

_Nia sighed. “No...” she shook her head, reaching for Cormack’s large hand and placing it on her abdomen._

_His eyes were as wide as saucers, shimmering with tears. His large hand trembled beneath Nia’s own and his very resolve crushed beneath him. “We need a name...” he gushed. “We need a name if I don’t...” he trailed, unable to think about even finishing his sentence, because not making it out was not an option._

_Nia gripped his hand even tighter, reassuring him. “How about.... Alijah?”_

_Cormack’s face scrunched in a comedic disgust. “Alijah?” He scoffed, jokingly, “I think Ontari sounds better”._

_Nia fixed him with a hard glare before he conceded. “Okay, Alijah it is”._

_The conclave was won in less than twelve hours, Cormack having killed seven of the other eleven natblida’s, one of the highest kill scores for any victor ever. His reign lasted eight months, one of the shortest ever, while having made many visits to Azgeda for updates on his daughter. One month short of seeing his first daughter’s birth, Cormack was assassinated by the Frikdreina._

_Two weeks later, Nia gave birth to her first daughter, a premature natblida, and she named the child Ontari. No one ever spoke of Ontari, nor did anyone speak of Cormack, there was no one alive who knew, not even Roan ever knew of his baby sister._

 

Still to this day, her memories of Cormack haunted her. His jet black hair, his deep, soothing voice, his kind forrest eyes. Perhaps that’s why Nia despised Leksa so much, because everytime she looked into those big green eyes, she was reminded of her husband, and everything she lost on the day of his death.

That’s partly why she sent the child away. The girl reminded her too much of Cormack, so Nia sent her little natblida away. But she did so with good intentions.  
The day Cormack died was the day Nia died aswell, there was nothing left but a cold, stoic exterior with an empty, heartless interior.

She sent her child away to train, to train until her limbs were sore, and her hands were calloused. From the moment she did so, she had a plan at work. But, perhaps that’s also why Nia’s treatment of Klark was very similar to her sending her daughter away, because Klark reminded her of her daughter. The two were the same age, and Klark possessed everything Nia hoped her daughter did, will, persistence and determination.

Klark was strong, she was resilient and she took everything that came her way, and then some. The girl did not waver or the girl did not concede. And no matter how how Nia might have despised the girl, she admired her and respected her, that’s why she let the girl live. Nia may be heartless, but everything she did was with purpose and intent, and she would never result to something petty as disregarding someone’s skill or ability simply because of her hatred. She knew how to separate her feelings from her duty.

But Ontari possessed the a few things Klark didn’t, nightblood, and loyalty. Nia was right to questions Klark’s loyalty at first, but then again, she wasn’t entirely surprised that her messenger came back with information that Klark and Leksa had reconnected.

It was to be expected, that’s why Nia had a plan B that no one knew about, except one. She knew the risks of Klark returning to her home and Leksa, she knew it was only a matter of time before Klark would remember. So, she was prepared for any and all outcomes, except her son.

That was something she never predicted, but it seemed as though Roan had chosen where his loyalties were, misplaced loyalties if Nia had anything to say about it, but loyalties all the same. At least she had one child and half that were still loyal.

The half, having kept on the down low in Polis had been sending consent word back to Nia of Klark’s initial progress, then her lack of progress. Then, there was the child, her natblida.

“I think you’re ready, don’t you” Nia circled the child victoriously, running her wrinkled fingers along the shoulders of the girl before her.

“Yes my, Queen” The child answered, completely monotone, but not at all lacking conviction.

“Good!” Nia cheered devilishly, “Everything is falling into plan now”.

The child beside her faltered, “The girl... she betrayed you. How is that part of the plan?”

“Just you wait and see little one” Nia cooed, stretching a long wrinkled finger to tap her child’s nose in a condescending manner.

“And what of Roan?” She asked, “He’ll be out there? If he’s working with her, he may... retaliate?”

Nia laughed heartlessly, her cold eyes widening at such a ridiculous thought. “Don’t you worry, when we’re finished, you will be the most powerful person in the coalition. And... no one will be left to stop you, not even Roan, not even the hound. We will have our revenge.” Nia nodded as she spoke, “And they will never know it’s coming”.

“What about you my Queen?” She questioned.

“You need not worry, my child.” Nia ran a cool hand along the length of the child’s jaw, “We will be untouchable. They took from us, so now we will take from them. Make your father proud child....” she whispered insidiously.

“Yes, mother”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DUN DUN DUN!!!
> 
> There is a time jump in the chapter, one month between the beginning of this and the end of last chapter. I’m really trying to move this story on so the time before praimfaya is relatively realistic! 
> 
> I know some of you have been asking, so here’s the reunion! I hope it’s as good as you expected it to be! Also there was a lot more dialogue and Clexa interaction, they have years to catch up on peeps!
> 
> Little bit of soft Nia in this chapter, I hope you like my take on her backstory. I realise I haven’t really done much on her or why she has such a cold demeanour, nor did the show, so here it is! (Look back to chapter 6 for a recap of Cormack - Nia’s husband), (also I say child because Nia is condescending like that. Ontari is an adult!)
> 
> More mention of acid rain, I don’t want to make it all happen now because I have a plan for the months before praimfaya occurs. It’s slow building! A lot of things will be left like I’ve brushed over them but trust me I haven’t, everything will be torn apart after praimfaya. A lot of lose ends will come together and a lot of shock moments are on the horizon! 
> 
> I have one which I don’t think anyone will see coming! I’d love to hear what you guys think will happen to see how good I am at not being predictable, so please let me know! 
> 
> Hoped you enjoyed this long-arse chapter. As always, leave a comment, suggestion, feedback or kudos! Until next time!


	9. Chapter Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *SMUT ENSUES IN THE SECOND LAST SECTION OF THIS CHAPTER!*  
> *There is also an intense murder scene, please skip over the Roan section following Klark & Leksa if you’re queasy. Inspiration for this death came from Tom Jane & John Travolta’s, The Punisher ;)
> 
> Everyone had demons in this world, everyone had to to survive. At some point, everyone would have done something they never thought they could do, but which was necessary to do...
> 
> ....Some demons were bigger than others, some were lucky enough to get absolution, and for some like Klark, there was no escape from her past or the things she had done,

It seemed like forever it took, to get the answers she was after, for all the pieces of the puzzle to fall together. It seemed forever since she’d felt like an actual person who could make her own decisions and live her own life, as opposed to living a life as a slave or a puppet.

This was the moment she had been waiting for, for so long, the moment she had dreamt about for as long as she could remember, and as amazing and enthralling as it felt to actually, _finally_ feel free, and to _finally_ feel whole again with purpose, Klark couldn’t help the gnawing feeling in her gut. She couldn’t help the anxiety or the worry from seeping back in and send her spiralling back down the rabbit hole.

She couldn’t help the worry that now that she finally had everything she ever wanted, people who loved her, and people she loved back, it would all be taken away from her, again. She couldn’t help the worry about what Nia would do now, or what Leksa would do if she truly knew who Klark was, after all, The Commander had had a kill order on Wanheda for years now.

There were parts of herself, parts of her past and things she had done that Klark thought she wouldn’t ever be able to talk about or come to terms with. Parts which she had locked away in a vault and sent to the bottom of the Marianas Trench that was her mind. It was one thing to open up to Leksa, and trust her with parts of her past, but it was an entirely knew thing to trust Leksa with exactly what Klark was so afraid to say, exactly what Leksa seemed to be digging away at.

The way that Leksa looked at her was unlike any way anyone had ever looked at her before. way Leksa looked at her, it was as though all the love which ever was, ever is, and will ever be was conveyed in a single gaze, and it would tear Klark’s heart to pieces if that Look was replaced with something such as hatred, malice, or betrayal just because of a past that Klark had no choice in.

It almost seemed as though admitting it out loud meant that it were all true. Here in Polis, and infront of Leksa and her mother, she was simply Klark. Not _Wanheda_ , _Commander of Death_ , _Wanheda_ , who had brutally murdered the lives of hundreds. She wanted so badly for it all to just be washed away, and some days she was able to convince herself that she was normal, but then she remembered the things she’d done, the things she could do, and all the worry came back like a plague.

She wanted so badly for someone to wake her up from this nightmare and say “ _it’s okay, you’re okay_ ”, she wanted so badly for that person to be Leksa, but there was no wake up call. No matter how many times Leksa reassured her, it never satisfied the demons inside of her.

Everyone had demons in this world, everyone had to to survive. At some point, everyone would have done something they never thought they could do, but which was necessary to do, whether it’s abandoning your child because they were born a Frikdriena, whether it was taking the life of another to end their painful suffering, whether it was pulling a lever to ensure your people’s survival, meanwhile killing hundreds, or whether, you were forced to kill person upon person just so you could see tomorrow.

Some demons were bigger than others, some were lucky enough to get absolution, and for some like Klark, there was no escape from her past or the things she had done, it was only a matter of time before her deepest demons surfaced, and time never was on Klark’s side.

At least now though, Leksa had called off her guards and Klark wasn’t being spied on. That eased her anxiety slightly, but that was until she saw _her_ ride into Polis. And like Pavlov’s effect, Klark’s throat started constricting, her palms started sweating and a tsunami of fear engulfed every inch of her body into a tremor. And, she was not alone.

Klark watched as the two lone figures looked up in her direction, because of course Nia _always_ knew where she was or what she was doing, like a sixth sense, there was simply no escaping the woman. Even in death, Klark figured, Nia would be haunting her, rattling on her metaphorical coffin with those bony, icey hands. Immediately Klark started roaming the city, trying to find Roan. Her luck was not granted for over an hour, until she saw the large man in the city training pit practicing his target shooting.

“Roan!” Klark huffed as she lept over the small fence into the pit.

Roan was alert almost instantly, having heard the worry in Klark’s voice and having seen the fear in her eyes. Nothing ever made _Wanheda_ fearful, but only one thing could strike fear into _Klark’s_ heart, and that was Nia.

“K-Klark?” Roan stuttered, now mirroring Klark’s fear. Roan was the first person, and the only person Klark had come to after her memories returned. She had told the man everything, about her life before hand, about her family, her friendships, even the friendship she had began to rebuild with Leksa, that’s if you could call two people who kiss friends, but she chose to leave specific details like that out.

Roan had listened with intent, laughing when Klark laughed, smiling when Klark smiled, even crying when she did. Because just like Klark’s demons, and Klark’s secrets, Roan was harbouring one of his own, one he’d been carrying for years.

It didn’t matter to Klark that Roan knew she’d been taken from someone as a kid. She’d figured he had to of known, and was only sparing her pain and grief by not telling her. She overlooked that from the man Roan was, a literal gentle giant, which he was only ever for Klark.

The two made there way swiftly to the edge of the city where it was less dense and populated, only to be stopped by a tall, slender figure, clad with a bow and a mask. A second figure emerged from a darkened alley, and came into a plain sight.

“Nia.” Klark and Roan both said in unison.

Nia eyed the two of them, scowling in Roan’s direction before she focused her attention on Klark. “I hear you’ve been busy... _Klark_.” Nia spoke, grin plastered to her face. “ _Klark. Klark_.” She repeated, testing its sound on her tongue, “Such a beautiful name. But... there’s another which is more suiting, don’t you think, _Wanheda_?”

Klark and Roan both took a step back at Nia’s approach. “Tell me... does Leksa know? Have you told her who you truly are?” Nia poked, the grin never leaving her face.

Klark stood there silent, still trying to adjust to the fact that Nia was here, in Polis. “Perhaps I should have a little talk with your new girlfriend” Nia continued, her hand coming to her chin in faux thought as she paced.

Klark’s heart began to race, as if it hadn’t been before. “Nia, don’t” she cautioned, voice wavering.

“You watch your tongue, _girl_.” Nia spat with venom, which was replaced with another smirk seconds later. “I think I should have a nice little conversation with Leksa, after all, you are the one she should of been hating all these years”.

Klark’s face crinkled, “What are you talking about?”

Nia chuckled at Klark’s bafflement. “Don’t play coy. Remember that fiesty brunette I asked you to bring to me? Gosh how long ago was it? Maybe four or so years ago?” Nia paced again, lost in thought.

“What about her?” Klark questioned, having remebered the girl immediately because Nia took no interest in hostages, except for one small brunette who was abducted off the path from Flokru years ago.

Nia stopped pacing, and turned to face the blonde dead straight. “Remember when you unflinchingly, drove your blade through her neck? Remember how _easy_ it was for you? Remember how you _liked_ it?”

Klark could feel her rage boiling up, what was Nia getting at. She hadn’t remembered a time that Nia looked more insidious than she did now, more than capable of giving children nightmares for years. “I didn’t like it!” Klark defended with a roar. “I did it because you told me too. It was her or me.”

“Aha!” Nia released a loud, feigned laugh, “So, do tell me, has Leksa told you of a girl named Costia yet?”

Nia watched as slowly Klark’s face morphed, the pieces falling together. “No... N-no” Klark stuttered, understanding Nia’s insinuation. “You... You’re.... you’re lying. I don’t trust a word you say, you’re the devil, Nia!” Klark shrieked.

Nia grinned, “Believe what you want girl, but I thought you should know who else the Commander’s bedded before you join her in it. And I thought you should know how the Commander came to hate me so much, or more correctly, came to hate _you_.”

“Now!” She exhaled exuberantly, clasping her hands together as if the previous conversation never took place, “I have business to attend to, so I’m warning you both...do not cross me.” Nia turned to face Roan for the second time during the interaction, “My appreciation of your bravery is why you’re both still alive, and, I’m interested to see what Leksa does when she inevitably finds out. But do not confuse my generosity with weakness. I will gut you down if I so much as think you a threat from this moment onwards. Leave the capital, and do not come back. This is my final warning”.

Nia and the masked figure were out of sight less than a couple minutes later, and both Klark and Roan stood there, mouths ajar as they tried to process what had just happened. After what seemed like hours, Roan turned to Klark.

“Klark...”

Klark recognised that tone. “No.” She interjected. “Uh Uh. I’m not giving her what she wants Roan, neither should you”.

Roan shook his head in disbelief, “Klark, you have a chance now. This is what you’ve always wanted! You’re free now, we can leave and—“

“No” Klark interrupted.

“Klark” Roan pressed firmly.

Klark shot the man a glare, “I said no, Roan. You can run... but I’m already free.”

Roan studied the girl for a few minutes, realising it was pointless to argue anymore. He nodded and turned away. Klark had never been more sure about anything in her entire life. If you asked her what she wanted months ago, she would’ve responded with “to be free”, but if you asked her now, her answer was “I am free”.

It took her a while to realise that while she was still searching for her freedom in Polis, still trying to find away to escape, she was already free, she was free the moment she remembered Leksa. Leksa had saved her beyond the girl’s understanding. Leksa was all she ever needed to finally feel at home, and she’d be damned if she’d sit back and let Nia ruin the greatest thing she had ever had in her life.

* * *

 

Anniversaries were hard. The first one’s were always the hardest because it was the first reminder of a tragic reality, but still, they were all hard, and Leksa knew this first hand. But for some reason, this time it felt worse, it felt harder than the first. Perhaps that was because instead of mourning and grieving the loss of her latest lover like she did every year, a certain blonde had saturated every square millimetre of her mind.

She had suffered the pain from many anniversaries before, many including the loss of friends in battles, but the only two which still caused her pain was the anniversary of the attack fifteen years ago where Leksa lost both Klark and her mother, and the anniversary of Costia.

Each year, Leksa was reminded of the loss of her first girlfriend Costia, and each year on the day, Leksa isolated herself from everyone, even Anya. Each year she locked herself in her quarters and stood staring out as far as the eye can see, often looking down at the movement upon the pavement below and analysing how easy it would be to throw herself over and not have to feel the pain anymore.

For years, Costia was Leksa’s rock, gave Leksa a reason to smile, a reason to be happy. She encouraged Leksa, and each day, Leksa woke up and lived for her. For a period of time, Costia was the most important person in Leksa’s life, even more so than Anya, and even more so than Klark, because Costia was tangible, and Klark a memory.

The two had met when Leksa was in her darkest time, two years before she had become Commander. Costia was patient, she was there for Leksa during the night terrors, and there for her in her wake. Costia stood by the girl through it all, the good times and the bad, and not once did her love or hope waver for Leksa, even when Leksa pushed her away.

Only a fool could not see that the girl was hopelessly in love with Leksa. And while Leksa knew this, it couldn’t help the fact of her reciprocating those feelings. Leksa loved Costia, but not in the way the girl loved her, not in the way Costia wanted her to, that place in her heart had already been filled by another.

But that all changed the day she recieved Costia’s head in a box. It was no longer love she truly felt, but guilt. Costia had spent the last years of her life loving someone who could never return that love. And each year, Leksa felt the guilt of, in a way, not allowing Costia to be truly happy with someone who could’ve loved her back. And, she felt the guilt of what comes when someone loves the Commander, death.

It was four years ago when Leksa had been waiting in her quarters for her girlfriend’s arrival. Costia had been returning from Flokru by Leksa’s orders when her team had been intercepted by the Ice Nation. Leksa waited hours for her lovers return, and when there was no sign, she sent riders on a path to Flokru.

Eventually, the riders came back, alone. Every warrior on that trail had been brutally murdered, every single person, with the exception of Costia. The following day, a package came from the Ice Nation containing what was left of Costia, her head. And Leksa was once again buried in her feelings of heartbreak and guilt.

Ultimately, loving the Commander was what got the girl killed. It painted a target on her back which practically begged “ _I’m here, I love the Commander, kill me_ ”. Because to be Commander was not to love, but in saying that, it was not to be loved aswell. Because love was weakness, and in weakness there was exploitation, and in exploitation there was death.

Costia was used as a message for Leksa, a message from Queen Nia that no matter what she did, Leksa could never escape her. No mater what she did, Nia would be there to watch her fall, to see into the breaks and cracks past the surface.

But now that Klark had returned, Leksa had been feeling all these emotions she’d buried away, all these emotions which she could not reciprocate for Costia, but she could for Klark, and this anniversary felt even harder than the first. Leksa felt as if she were betraying Costia’s memory, she felt dirty for loving Klark and not loving Costia.

She felt as if she had moved on far too quickly, even though it had been years, it still felt like yesterday that Leksa was waiting for her girlfriend to come home. And Klark being Klark, picked up on Leksa’s downcast behaviour instantly.

“Leks, are you okay?” Klark nudged, gently.

“Hmm?” Leksa hummed, “Sorry it’s just... it would’ve been Costia’s birthday today” she murmured.

“C-Costia?” Klark stuttered, her heart rate picking up and her mind racing with Nia’s words.

“Yes. My... she _was_ my girlfriend” Leksa corrected with a sigh.

Klark nodded, “What was she like?”

Leksa let out a hearty chuckle as she let her mind flick back to her memories of Costia. “She was brave, she was a warrior, one of the finest I’ve ever seen. She carried herself with grace and people respected her. But she was also smart, tactical and she never lost her battles.”

“Were you in love?” Klark asked.

“With Costia... I dont know.” Leksa spoke with a sigh, “We had a connection, but there was no spark. I loved her and I cared for her, but I don’t think I was ever in love with her. And it hurt when she died, and I didn’t let myself feel for ages. I guess now, I can finally start to feel... to truly feel. Maybe it’s time to move on?”

Klark wanted to nothing more than to tell Leksa the truth, to let Leksa stop blaming herself for a death she couldn’t stop. After all, since Nia’s arrival, klark knew without doubt that it was her fault and not Leksa’s. But how do you tell someone you love that you took the life of someone they loved. How do you willingly subject yourself to the inevitable reject and hate.

Leksa was the greatest Commander in history, but even she had her limits. It wouldn’t matter her relationship Klark, or her feelings for Klark. Klark would be subjected to a trial like any other, and Leksa, the last thing Klark would know would be that Leksa hated her for the things she had done.

* * *

Since the run in with his mother, Roan had been keeping low and out of sight. While he was still his mother’s son, he knew without doubt that she would end his life without a second thought if she had to.

Often he wondered what made his mother the way she was, why she was so cold and detached from everyone and everything. He seemed to recall his mother being normal once, years and years ago before his first visit to the capital. Although his memory was a bit fuzzy from his countless concussions, and blows to the head from battles, he remembered a time his mother could love.

But as fleeting as it was, it passed just as quick, and the majority of his memories of Nia didn’t even exist anymore. The woman disappeared from his life without word at some point, and rarely did he ever see her, not even in their kingdom. He had tried on multiple occasion, but after denial, after denial, he gave up on trying to reach the woman his mother once was.

He even went so far as to try and talk to the elder guards around their kingdom, the ones who had served his mother the longest. One day, the head of the guards actually spoke about a man, a man that Nia used to see. Roan knew his biological father was dead, so he knew that this was someone else. Before the man could tell Roan anymore, he was called for watch duty. He promised Roan that he would find him and talk more.

Roan waited days and days for the head of guards to find him. But the man never showed. After the fifth day, Roan decided to ask his mother, surprisingly, he was let into her quarters. It was the first time in a long time he had seen his mother in person, and she just sat there in her chair with a glint in her eyes and smirk on her face.

“Looking for someone?” She asked.

Roan visibly shuddered at the shrillness in her voice. It was then that he saw some figures emerge from the darkness. Two men dragged another older man by his arms infront of the boy, and Roan barely recognised him to be the head of guards. The man’s face was smashed and bloodied beyond recognition, one of his eyes refused to even open, his teeth were missing, Roan couldn’t see his tongue in his ajar mouth, his hands were bloodied and Roan noticed his lack of finger nails.   
There was definitely more, but Roan squeezed his eyes shut, afraid to look anymore.

“This is what happens when you go around asking questions” Nia spoke sickeningly sweetly, and if Roan’s eyes were open, he would’ve seen the faux sweetness on his mother’s face transform into something malevolent.

“ _LOOK AT ME WHEN I TALK TO YOU BOY_!” The woman shrieked, and the next thing Roan felt was searing, wet heat blooming from the side of his face where his mother had struck, accompanied by an echoing _thwack!_

His eyes snapped open in fear, but one eye was immediately clouded in red. The force of the hit had split his entire cheek open, either that or Nia had hit him with something other than her hand. Still, he held eye contact with his mother, afraid of not doing so again.

“That’s a good boy” Nia petted, her voice turning disgustingly sweet again. “I said, this is what happens when you go around asking questions”. She tilted her head as she spoke, an insidious depiction of innocence, right before she nodded at one of the men.

The image before Roan was one he had never been able to erase. It was the first time he had seen someone die. He had seen many dead bodies before, before never had he seen someone’s life be taken before him. One of the guards removed a rather long looking dagger and rested it underneath the chin of the older man.

A small groan sounded, then in a split second, Roan watched as the dagger was jammed up, up into the man’s jaw, up through the roof of his hanging mouth, and up into his skull. The dagger was pushed with so much force that the end was able to be seen poking out from the top of the dead man’s skull.

Roan turned to his mother, his eyes brimming with tears. “Okay?” Nia cooed insidiously, her Icey hand coming to cup Roan’s bloody cheek.

From that day onwards, Roan refused to see his mother, refused to talk to her, refused to even think about her unless he had to. Even now as a fully grown man, the image still distressed Roan, and he knew that there was no place in the entire world where anyone who crossed his mother would be safe, not while she was breathing.

He couldn’t just leave the capital though, despite his last conversation with Klark, he had to know what his mother was up to. Why after decades, she had decided to return to Polis, but more than that, he had to know that whatever Klark was doing, she was okay.

Just like the blonde, Roan was good at hiding, he taught her how to hide, how to stay inconspicuous and survive in the shadows. But Klark wasn’t the only one he taught.

A ruffling behind him caught Roan by surprise. He had been so careful about covering his tracks and keeping invisible. He no longer even went into the city during the day, only venturing in by night.

“Look what the cat dragged in” a voice mocked behind him. Roan recognised the voice immediately, and turned just in time to hault the hand, clad with a knife flying towards him.

The owner of the voice chuckled at Roan’s fright. “Why so serious, Ro? You know I’d never actually kill you, not if I could help it”

“Echo...” Roan released a breath, shrugging his grip off the woman’s wrist. “I should have known Nia would bring you, you were always the favourite bitch. So tell me, how does it taste to be so far up Nia’s ass?”

Echo visibly tensed, all humour leaving her face. “Careful Roan, you may not wish her to be your mother, but she will always be your Queen” she cautioned.

Roan scoffed, turning to leave before Echo reefed his arm backwards, and took his legs out from beneath him, effectively landing him with a satisfying pop of his shoulder. Roan groaned beneath Echo’s weight, her foot planted firmly in the centre of his back, keeping him pinned to the ground, while she held his dislocated arm up.

“Is this how you treat your family?” Roan said disgracefully.

“You were _never_ my family, Roan” Echo retorted, “You tried to hide me away, fill my head with poison, by Nia... she opened my eyes to vile and disgusting grime of this world. And Wanheda, she is the Queen of them all. The Queen of the _gafa’s_ ” Echo continued, humourless malice dripping from her tone.

Roan grunted at the derogatory term, trying to break free of Echo’s grasp, the pain ultimately subduing him. “What the hell happened to you, Echo?” Roan pleaded beneath the pain.

Echo let out a merciless chuckle. “I woke up. I see now what Nia had been wanting us both to see all these years.”

“You are blind, Echo” Roan struggles, “Nia doesn’t love you, Nia doesn’t care for you—”

“She does” Echo interrupted.

Roan groaned louder as Echo twisted his arm even further, “You are so blind it’s painful. The woman couldn’t love her own son, what makes you think you’re any different?”.

Echo growled above him before shoving his arm to the ground. Roan crawled onto his side, holding his arm to his chest. “Whatever you’re planning, Roan, don’t. You have no idea the storm you’ll find yourself in. If I see you again, your shoulder won’t be the only thing I break”.

* * *

The dinner by sunset turned into a starry night as Leksa and Klark lay, resting at opposite ends of the frame of the dual open doors sipping on moonshine. While Leksa’s eyes were strained to the stars, as if looking up to the heavens and begging Costia for forgiveness, Klark kept her cerulean pools solely on Leksa.

The woman was the most beautiful thing Klark had ever seen, and Klark had seen a lot. Still, Klark was completely mesmerised by the depth, complexity and beauty of the woman before her. How she held such a strong statue and view for her people, but behind closed doors she was just as vulnerable as anyone else.

Slowly, Klark inched closer, her foot now nudging against the inside of Leksa’s thigh. The brunette turned her gaze to Klark, her shimmering emerald eyes blown with an air of sadness, unshed tears, but also a slight hunger, maybe. Her gaze was kind and her lips turned up into the small smile that Klark had come to realise was only for her. Klark was utterly hypnotised by the woman.

Klark inched her way closer again, her eyes never leaving Leksa’s as she crawled on all fours, hovering over Leksa’s outstretched legs. Swiftly, she threw her right leg over Leksa’s left, and her left over Leksa’s right so she was straddling the wide eyed brunette.

The brunettes eyes blew even more if that was even possible, and she slowly drew a single hand up Klark’s clothed thigh before resting at Klark’s hip, drawing slow, soothing circles against her milky skin underneath her shirt.

Klark rolled her hips, _once_ , _twice_ , allowing the minimal, clothed friction to spark a throb between her legs, her gaze never leaving Leksa’s. Leksa’s other hand quickly came to Klark’s other hip, squeezing firmly as Klark gave another experimental roll of her hips. An audible growl sounded through Leksa’s plump lips, and Klark leaned in to taste her prize.

The kiss was soft, but full of a fierce, starved passion. Klark relished in the pillowy cushions of Leksa’s full lips, and the sweet taste they emitted as she gently tugged Leksa’s lower lip between her teeth. The girl below her growled again, lowly and Klark’s tongue darted out to circle the outer rim of Leksa’s lips, teasingly, before gently brushing across the length of them.

The second her tongue entered Leksa’s parted mouth, the brunette reacted animalistically, holding Klark firmly by her thighs before before pushing her onto her back along the cushioned floor. Leksa fell atop and held Klark down in a searing kiss, her tongue exploring every inch of the blonde’s mouth while her hands ran up and down the tops of Klark’s thighs, her thumbs leaning inwards to tease along Klark’s sensitive inner thighs.

Leksa pulled back momentarily, catching her breath and murmuring Klark’s name as if asking for permission.

“Klark?” Leksa murmured softly.

The blonde below her whimpered, “Please, Leks.... please”.

Leksa took that as her cue and attacked Klark’s lips ferociously, her tongue swirling around with Klark’s eagerly, savouring each and every taste the blonde provided her. Her fingertips danced at the edge of Klark’s shirt before she pulled it up, revealing Klark’s full breasts, clad in a velvet coloured bra.

Her eyes widened in appreciation as she drew in the sight before her, momentarily stopping all her ministrations. Her eyes met Klark’s briefly, the blonde looked up at her expectantly. Leksa collapsed on top of Klark’s covered breasts, sucking her stiffened peaks through the material. Swiftly she removed Klark’s bra and palmed her left breast, tweaking the stiff peak between her thumb and fore finger while her mouth lavished the right, swirling along the outside of the pink nipple before sucking the peak into her mouth.

Klark moaned and writhed beneath her, arching her back involuntarily and simultaneously pushing her breasts further into Leksa’s impatient mouth. While Leksa focused on Klark’s breasts, her hand traveled down between the indent of Klark’s lungs, then abdomen, drawing a slow and torturous path before stopping at the waistband of Klark’s pants.

She looked up at Klark once again, the blue in the girl’s eyes now barely visible behind a curtain of blown pupils. “Please” Klark pleaded.

Leksa’s hand travelled lower to inbetween Klark’s legs, right at the apex of her thighs before she took a bold and firm rub of Klark’s centre over her pants. The blonde arched her back at the pressure, both enough and not enough simultaneously as the seam of her pants pushed tightly and deliciously against her centre.

Leksa kept her eyes on Klark, admiring the blonde’s reactions while her own panties began to dampen with arousal. She then travelled up, undoing Klark’s pants while her mouth followed in the same direction to leave Klark’s reddened breasts for her neck. She pulled Klark’s pants down just enough to slowly run her finger between Klark’s folds over the fabric of her sodden panties.

The blonde gasped beneath Leksa, breath hard as Leksa toyed with her, sucking and soothing along her pulse point as the Commanders long and slender finger travelling a torturous path from Klark’s centre up to her swollen clit. She circled the swollen bud once, twice, before running her finger back down and pushing lightly into Klark’s centre while Klark tried to shift her hips away from Leksa’s teasing finger.

The brunette chuckled lightly at Klark’s half attempt to shift away, pushing down harder to keep the blonde in place. She cupped Klark’s sex firmly in her hand, rubbing her dampened panties harshly against her folds.

“Leks....” Klark whined into the brunette’s mouth as Leksa swallowed her moan and sucked her tongue between her lips.

In an instant, Leksa’s hand left Klark’s throbbing centre to pull the blonde’s panties up between her folds, pushing against her slit and straining Klark’s swollen, sensitive bud.

“Leksa!” Klark gasped, now beyond the limit of any teasing she had received before. The blonde felt as if she were about to burst from the pressure that Leksa’s was so deliciously building up in her. Her panties were now ruined with arousal, and it was beautiful, just not enough to push her over the edge.

Leksa left her suspended on a cliff of pleasure, smirking as Klark tried to gain that little bit of friction to push her over, but Leksa was methodical. She didn’t give in to Klark’s release, she allowed the bubbling pressure to simmer back down into a bear painful state.

“Please, Leksa” Klark moaned, squeezing her thighs together harder, trapping Leksa’s hand and trying to any sort of friction to ease the fading pleasure, “Stop. Fucking. Teasing.” Klark punctuated.

Leksa hummed, ignoring Klark’s pleas as she was totally enthralled at the look of Klark’s pupil blown eyes, disappointed expression, disheveled hair and the gleam of a layer of sweat gracing her skin. “Shhhh” Leksa cooed, now taking pity on Klark as she pushed the blonde’s ruined panties aside.

Immediately, her hand was met with a mass of throbbing wetness. She grinned into Klark’s lips, her hand resting in Klark’s folds but not moving. “Do you want me?” Leksa asked, itching her finger ever so gently along Klark’s slit.

Klark moaned beneath her. “Yes! Please, Leksa. I need you”. The blonde pleaded, looking up at Leksa like she put the stars in the sky.

Leksa smiled warmly down at Klark, a mischevious glint in her eyes. She fixed her knees between Klark’s spread legs and seductively slid down Klark’s body, her tongue drawing a wet path between Klark’s breasts and down to her stomach, lightly nipping at Klark’s full hips before licking down to her exposed centre. Leksa’s hands followed suit, grazing down Klark’s breasts and giving a firm squeeze before gently circling her stiffened peaks.

Leksa darted her tongue out and gave a curious lick through Klark’s folds, tasting her for the first time as her eyes never left Klark’s pools. The blonde whipped her head back, whimpering while Leksa finally explored her, trailing her tongue in an agonisingly slow path, Klark, now beyond ready for her release that Leksa had so torturously worked her up for.

She sucked Klark’s soaking folds into her mouth while her nose probed at Klark’s sensitive clit. A guttural moan fell from Leksa’s busy mouth at the musky sweet taste of Klark, and Klark shuddered above her, her eyes squeezed firmly shut while she bucked her hips violently into Leksa’s eager mouth. Leksa released Klark’s swollen lips, and without warning entered two fingers into Klark’s wetness while her mouth enclosed over Klark’s clit.

She began pumping into Klark at a phenomenal rate, her spare hand coming down underneath Klark to palm at her firm ass. Klark arched her back so far that she was afraid it might snap, her hands tangling within brunette locks as her walls tightened around Leksa’s slender fingers.

“Squeeze my fingers Klark. I want to feel you tight around me” Leksa hummed into Klark’s clit, the vibrations setting her off even more.

Klark complied, and Leksa curled her digits within Klark, brushing her sensitive spot before giving an overly harsh suck on her clit. That sent Klark spiralling off the edge into euphoria, into an ocean of stars. Her mouth was still slacked in a silent scream a minute later, and her eyes squeezed firmly shut. Leksa moaned into Klark’s folds, causing the blonde to snap her cerulean pools open at the vibrations, only to meet Leksa’s awe filled gaze staring up at her.

Leksa coaxed Klark through the end and aftermath of her climax, gently stroking her in and out, while her tongue licked small paths across Klark’s proud clit.

“Fuck” Klark panted, having caught her breath. “That was amazing.”

Gracefully, Leksa rose up to sit on her heels, her eyes following shamelessly up and down Klark’s body, taking in every scar, every bruise, every curve, and every inch of beautiful milky skin.

“Leks?” Klark called, “Are you okay?”

Leksa was disrupted from her thoughts. “Yeah I... you’re so beautiful, Klark.” She praised.

Klark smiled warmly and held out her arms for Leksa to lay atop her. The brunette snuggled down, pushing herself up against the blonde, her head resting on Klark’s chest as she listened to every beat sounding from her heart. Leksa relaxed, letting the beating of Klark’s heart lull her into a slumber and the warmth of Klark’s arms securing her protectively.

* * *

 

So maybe anniversaries were not as hard as she thought. Leksa woke the following morning underneath her covers, her head on something soft and squishy that definitely was _not_ her pillow. She cracked her forrest eyes open to see what the damage was, but she was blinded by the site of Klark’s bare chest, and her _pillow_ , which had been Klark’s breast.

Leksa smiled dumbly at the arrangement, one of her legs locked over Klark’s so she lay partially straddling one of Klark’s thighs, while her hands wrapped around the blonde’s abdomen. She didn’t remember when they made their way to the bed, but she was glad they did, seeing as how the cushions were splayed about the floor in gaps.

The room was humid, and smelt of sex. Leksa smirked, basking in the smell before looking up at her sleeping beauty. Klark was a vision. The sun streaming from the window bathed her milky skin, her breasts raised with each breath, and a light snore made its way out of the blonde’s mouth.

Slowly, Leksa pealed herself off of Klark, careful not to wake the blonde. She threw on her black nightgown and made her way out of the room to the large balcony in the congregation room. She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw someone sitting on the throne, _her_ throne, one leg thrown casually over the arm rest.

“Nia.” Leksa seethed, her fists clenching. Her vein visibly throbbed in her neck, under normal circumstances anyone would have been afraid, but this was Nia.

Nia held up her hands in surrender, “I concede. I come in peace.”

Leksa found it hard to believe Nia, but she stilled for a moment, refraining from calling for her guards to see what Nia actually wanted.

“I thought we should have a little chat about... a mutual _friend_.” Nia grinned triumphantly, rising from the throne.

Lexa snarled, “We don’t have any mutual friends Nia.”

Nia feigned surprised as she stared at Leksa intently. “Oh... my mistake. But it occurred to me that infact we do”.

Leksa studied her, nodding for Nia go continue at whatever she was getting at.   
“Remember your little girlfriend? What was her name... Costia? Yesterday... the anniversary right?” Nia prodded, trying to get a rise.

Like a moth to a flame, Leksa bounded across the room in an instant. “Don’t you dare say that name again!” She growled, her voice straining with the shear rage coiling inside of her.

“You’ve been hating me for years, Leksa.” Nia chuckled, unfazed by Leksa’s outburst in the slightest, “But what if that hate was misplaced?”

“What are you talking about?” Leksa backed away from Nia slightly.

Nia grinned demonically, before clearing her throat from where Leksa had her hand wrapped tightly around. “See that’s where our mutual friend comes in. What if I told you it wasn’t me who killed her”.

“You’d be lieing!” Leksa yelled.

“Perhaps...” Nia conceded slightly, “But perhaps you should ask your new girlfriend what she thinks. Just food for thought, Leksa, that’s all. I’ll be seeing you” Nia spoke as she brushed past a fuming Leksa.

Leksa stood there, playing the words over and over in her head. _What if that hate was misplaced. What if I told you it wasn’t me who killed her. Perhaps should ask your new girlfriend._

There’s no doubt that Leksa picked up on Klark’s awkward behaviour at the mention of her latest lover, but perhaps she was reading too much into it. Nia had taken so much from Leksa over the years, her mother, Klark, her people, Costia, and Leksa’s was damned if she was going to let Nia interfere with only good thing she had left in this miserable world. Perhaps Nia was only trying to stir things up even further. So Leksa decided to shake those alarming thoughts from her head, content of believing that Klark was all she said she was, that Klark had been honest with her. For now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Important* I need help finding a fiction because I can’t find it for the life of me and I’m going to cry. Any detectives out there that can PLEASE help? I will love you forever. AND IM SO INCREDIBLY SORRY FOR THE WAIT! I’ve had a full on past month I haven’t had time to write genuinely, hopefully this long-ish chapter will make it up to you guys!
> 
> I’ve also been emotionally incapacitated after I read the saddest Supercorp fiction of my existence. I’m talking tsunami worthy tears. Like so sad I broke a little bit from it. 
> 
> So, the next three chapters guys... it all goes down! Keep an eye on the updates! Points for whoever can guess Roan’s secret I hinted at in the first part!
> 
> Please do not forget to let me know if you want anything to happen with your favourite characters or if you want the introduction of new characters! I’m set on a few things for the next few chapters but I’m up to trying to incorporate ALL your ideas! This was also the first of a few bombshell’s dropped before praimfaya, please tell you me you guys got it? Like I didn’t want to spell it out but you got it right? Haha
> 
> Also, I invested in Twitter, so if you like my writing or want to suggest prompts, let me know @AiLaikHeda__
> 
> Loved the feedback last chapter, it was the most I’ve gotten I think! It truly makes me happy that you guys enjoy this fiction! Keep up the love and enthusiasm! Sorry for any errors in advance, I have no beta & Until next time :)


	10. Authors Note

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *THIS IS NOT A CHAPTER*

** This is not a chapter **

This fiction has not been forgotten. My phone actually crashed with all my chapters of this and one of my supercorp fictions that was in its beginning stage. 

I don’t trust the cloud so I hadn’t backed my phone up (yes I know, shame on me). I have re-read this fiction over and over to try and catalise a story similar to what I had originally planned. I honestly had it planned down to a T. Praimfaya, reuinion, it all was planned and ready to go. But hey, poop happens.

I‘m trying to clean the poop up, but I’ve been side tracked by another Supercorp fiction I’m writing. I know this sucks and is inconvenient to readers who have been with me since chapter one, or those who have just started even. I still get kudo updates on this and it makes me smile.

So NO. I am no abandoning this. This fiction is my baby and I do not abandon my babies. I might just forget them for a bit ;). Also I don’t want to write something for the hell of an update. I like to think my chapters are all of the same caliber/quality, so I can’t promise an update right away. But I thought I owed you all an explanation. But hey, at least I didn’t leave you hanging right before the smut! It could’ve been worse! And if it’s any consolation, I have already started trying get through the next bunch of chapters so I can update a few in compensation.


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